


Don't Play Jesus

by GuessWhat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, References to Addiction, References to Drugs, References to Illness, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuessWhat/pseuds/GuessWhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is there a God out there? If he exists, he's deaf, and if he hears me, he doesn't see me. So I ended up here, from the streets to the stalls of a high school. Still and always swimming through shit. Do you want to listen to me? Good. Sit down. This is my life, this is my story.<br/>[Levi POV]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Workaholic

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a translation: I'd like to thank itsnotapastime for the translation and paveffer for the correction (they're both on tumblr, if you want to thank them too!).

I’ve always been a fucking lazy ass, and tonight was no exception as I lied sprawled on my couch like dog shit smeared on the sidewalk. And I was feeling shitty indeed. Which was nothing new, since I’ve been like this pretty much ever since I came out of my mother’s cunt - Perpetually pissed at everything and everyone, fed up with the entire world, and thus lazy as fuck.

My sluggishness usually reached its peak in the evening, as I came back home from that shitty hole of a school where I scrubbed dumps and polished the hallways filthied by those brats’ muddy shoes. Clearly it was too much of a hassle for their parents to properly educate them and teach them to use doormats. But why should they bother? After all there would always be an underpaid asshole to clean up after their mess. And in this case, that underpaid asshole was me.

The urge to throw up when I mopped the floors was overwhelming but at the end of the day I felt proud of myself for making that shithole shine (and occasionally scaring to death the students that lingered in the school after classes. God, their terrified spotty faces were priceless).

I’m not gonna lie, I would have gladly stuck my wet mop in some of those kids’ faces (especially that Jaeger or his friend Kirsch-something, when they fight over the half-asian girl), or thrown bleach in their eyes ( _this_ was actually something I would have done to headmaster Pixis, who always spills rum on his fucking desk and leaves it a sticky mess). But I never acted on such impulses; I was not that big of a jerk. And those snotty brats had nothing to do with my shitty problems.

I rolled on my side and grunted. In that moment the sound of an electric keyboard and a drum’s thumps came from the kitchen, soon followed by Jake Shears’ shrill voice. It sent shivers down my spine, like nails dragged on a chalkboard. “I don’t feel like dancing” was the ringtone I had chosen specifically for him, though it didn’t fit him at all. You should have seen the face he made when once I couldn’t find my phone and asked him to make it ring. Mouth slightly agape, his piercing blue eyes had gone impossibly wide.

I let Shears sing some more until the call ended, and stretched my legs in satisfaction. I knew he was going to call again, maybe in two minutes, maybe half an hour. I knew this because I did this little game every single time he called. After I would always come up with some lame, half-assed excuse for not picking up earlier, and he’d believe me  _every fucking time_. Or perhaps he’d pretend to. No, he most definitely pretended. After all, his job required the ability to put up with and overlook his “client’s” weirdest shit; if he wasn’t able to, his liver would burst (as well as his balls). I got drunk on the feeling of having this kind of control over people, it was like an addiction that I had no intention of kicking. Having people hang on my every word just felt too good.

I was on the verge of dozing off when I heard Shears going off once again. I got up slowly and grudgingly dragged my sorry ass to the small and neat kitchen where I picked up the phone

"Yo."

"Ah, good evening Levi."

Gosh, his voice sounded like honey even on the phone. I hopped on the table and let my feet dangle lazily.

"What do you want?" I wasn’t annoyed by him or anything. It was just how I normally acted and he knew it.

"I’m in your neighborhood right now, checking on some families in the area. Are you at home?"

I felt thrilled knowing that he was nearby. Toying with a pack of cigarettes in one hand, I told him “Mh. Wasn’t the visit scheduled for next week?”

He answered without losing a beat -fuck, I had never caught this bastard faltering. Ever. “You’re right, but I’m close to your home so I thought I’d take the opportunity and check on you, too. But if you’re busy we’ll just stick to the original plan, don’t worry” 

I glanced at the clock that hung close to the window. It was half past eight already, and he usually got to work at nine in the morning; he always worked overtime and never got anything out of it. He was a public employee, and one of the lowest ranks too: a social worker.

"You had dinner yet?"

"No, actually I haven’t had lunch ei-"

I didn’t even let him finish his sentence. “Frozen pizza okay with you?”

Ah, this time he  _did_  falter. Wonderful. I felt so elated at the thought that the corner of my lips lifted in a smirk and my toes curled up. He couldn’t see me anyway.

"Actually, I don’t think that’s a good idea…" he regained his composure, but I could sense a note of uncertainty underneath. My cute little social worker. Mingling with clients is a big no-no, ain’t it?

"Is it okay or not?"

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

"Right. See you in a bit."

I hang up and ran to the freezer to retrieve the pizza. You know, I never eat at the table. I usually just put whatever my dinner consisted in on a plastic plate and took it to the couch. I don’t have any money to waste on too expensive water bills. I had a better use for water, and that was for washing the floors and having showers regularly, thank you very much. If it wasn’t for Erwin, the one who strenuously fought so that the state provided me with this shitty excuse of a house, I wouldn’t even have a roof on my head. Nonetheless I didn’t really show him much gratitude for that; the world owed me big time after all. I’ve been fucking unlucky since the moment I was born, so it seemed only right that others did for me the things I didn’t have the means to do. I didn’t particularly care.

I put the hard-as-marble pizza in the oven and started setting the table with, hear-hear,  _proper_ cutlery. Weird as that was, I didn’t really question it. I just went with the flow and acted by instinct; I found taht always second guessing people was annoying as fuck. If I felt like using real glasses, and forks and plates to have dinner with Erwin, then I’d use real glasses, forks and plates to have dinner with Erwin. I felt like picking my nose? No, never, that’s fucking gross.

It didn’t take long for Erwin to get his fit ass to my apartment. I heard the doorbell go off and knew it was him (well, it could have been Auruo and the others too but they didn’t really come to my house to hang out that much. Especially Auruo, who had the freaking disgusting habit of biting his tongue when he talked, and sent blood flying everywhere. I hated cleaning the messes he made) but I took my sweet time to open the door. I wanted to make him wait a little bit more, so in the meantime I took the steaming pizza out of the oven, cut it into slices and arranged them on the plates. Just as I was finishing, Erwin rang the doorbell once again; it was like I could see him, standing in the shabby hall of my condo, unblinkingly pressing his finger to the buzzer. 

I opened the door and made my way back to the kitchen without looking at him, picking up my slice of pizza while sliding in my seat. I always tried my best to piss him off, to coax some kind of reaction out of him, but it was no use; he was always like that, perfectly composed and imperturbable. Sometimes I just wanted to punch him in the face. Well, more than sometimes. Kinda often actually.

From where I was sitting I saw him making his way through the doorway, mumbling a quiet “I’m coming in…

Even after eleven fucking hours of work weighing on his shoulders, the bastard looked as hard as a rock (not like  _that,_ you damn perverts) and handsome as a Hollywood star. But he also looked more human and less flawless, with the slightly slouched posture and teeth still clean (though not shining like a damn 100 watt lamp) as usual. Frankly it kind of annoyed me to see him standing in the hallway like some kind of ethereal apparition, calmly taking off his jacket.

Sometimes I wondered if he were even real. I was equal parts bothered and pleased by his attractiveness. You know what? I would have thrown him on my creaking couch and gladly enjoyed every squeak as I rode him hard. I often conjured up this image while masturbating. Come on, don’t make those faces. It’s kind of late to act all prissy like fucking bigots.

Even now with his tired face, soggy pits (eww gross) and crooked tie I’d have fucked him without a second thought. He perspired testosterone from every pore, but still acted all proper like some kind of dapper private school boy ( _why_ dear Lord couldn’t the brats at school be like him? Not talking about the looks though, I’m not a freaking pedophile). I didn’t know anything about how much action he got, or if he was even good at screwing, and I almost felt the physical  _need_  to know. I was dying to know if he had a lover; in my head I imagined Erwin to have a girlfriend and I usually referred to that faceless woman as a whore. I know it’s not “politically correct” but I don’t really give a fuck. And thinking of Erwin actually ditching that woman to screw me instead was the hottest thing ever and got me off like nothing else.

Either way, I had never really made any moves on him or anything. I was fine with using him as jacking off material only, and really it was better to leave things like that. Well, not that I had a choice to begin with, ‘cause Mr Dapper here was just too considerate and proper to even think about fraternizing with “public service users”. You’d think we were actually going to perform some satanic rite from the way he gingerly approached the table, with an almost pained and vaguely regretful look. And being brutally honest, he actually looked like the boring, romantic type, all nice manners and classy dates and sweet wooing and shit like that. And I really couldn’t care less about all that lame stuff; the only thing I was interested in was the not-so-little friend in his pants.

"Did you stop to take a shit on your way here?" I asked him, twirling the fork in my finger before lifting it up to my mouth.

He smiled tiredly and sat in the seat opposite mine. “Yes, I mean, no- sorry, I had to drop by the Yorks.”

"The ones with the super dyke mulatto daughter?" I didn’t really give a shit which way the girl swung, since I myself wanted in the pants of the man sitting in front of me.

Erwin’s brow furrowed and he looked at me with stern eyes, as he began to cut out his slice of pizza. He sat gracefully with his arms close to his torso like some stuck-up etiquette freak, unlike me who didn’t give two shits and had my elbows planted on the table.

"Levi…"

"Yeah?"

”…Nothing. But yes, I had to go to the Yorks because there’s been issues with Ymir.” He kept his eyes low as he talked, and it was like in his head he was still there.

I took a sip of coke. “What issues?”

"She hit her mother." He sounded almost nonchalant. He was probably used to deal with this kind of thing on a daily basis, but it didn’t mean that it didn’t affect him; he just tried his hardest not to show it. "Then she broke a few things and ran away from home."

"Uh."

"Yeah."

"She still hasn’t come to terms with the adoption thing? Shitty ungrateful brat, they could have left her to rot in a fucking orphanage or with that junkie of her mother. She didn’t even thank you." not like I was any different. I hadn’t thanked him either when he’d worked his ass off to get me state subsidy.    

He shrugged and popped a piece of pizza in his mouth. “She’s going through a difficult time.” He poured himself some water and took the glass to his lips. “She has it tough especially at school.

"I’ve heard that everyone’s giving her shit for being mixed race and a lesbian."

"Precisely."

"Really, it’s a shame I don’t have the morning shift. I would have loved to stick up a broom up each one of those fuckers’ asses." My disappointment was genuine. Those bastards needed to be put in place with a few well-aimed kicks.

Erwin didn’t say anything and just kept on chewing in silence, eyes fixed on his plate. I decided to tease him a bit.

"Why are you telling me this stuff anyway? Isn’t this, like, "confidential" or something?"

He looked up at me with a small smile on his lips. “Well, the news will spread like fire tomorrow at school anyway. At least I can give you a first rate, reliable account of the events right?”

"Ah right. ‘S not like you confided in me or anything, is it?"

"Positively not."

I watched him as he finished eating, picking up a few stray olives from the plate, and noticed a few things. The last time Erwin had visited me was the month before (between one check-up and the following could pass weeks or just a few days, depending on the higher-ups’ decisions and protocols) and some things are far more noticeable after a month of absence. His hair had thinned out. The once immaculately parted, thick and glossy strands looked now dull and frail

"What have you done with your hair? You ran out of shampoo and decided to use piss instead?"

"Uhu?" from the look on his face I realized he didn’t have a clue about what I was telling him. He brought a hand tho the back of his head and tried to sneak a glance backwards. "Do I have greasy hair?"

"No, it looks so damaged that someone might think you actually soaked it in vinegar and salt" I stood and brought our plates to the sink.

"I guess you have a point. I didn’t really notice it though"

"Well, with how much you work I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you won’t be able to get it up anymore and still won’t notice a thing." I was just kidding, but Erwin’s face got beet red. He looked like some kind of ridiculous red light, with his flustered and mortified expression.

"They need me at work, that’s all."

He always,  _always_ had a retort at hand. Every time he spouted this kind of idiotic, painfully cliché claims to wriggle his way out of complicated situations, I wanted nothing more than to slap him really hard a few times. I fucking hated it when he forgot that he was human too, and needed to care for himself and sleep like anyone else. I didn’t know what he got up to when he went back home at night; but I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he actually spent the hours he should have used to rest, to pour himself over tons of paperwork, revising dossiers upon dossiers. For a brief moment I wondered if he ever read mine too.

"Whatever. You want coffee?"

"Yeah, sure. Thank you"

At that exact moment his phone rang. Jesus, his ringtone just screamed “old man”. It was one of those plain, lame as fuck ones that only phones from the 50’s still had. I hoped it was not a call from someone at work, or honest to God I would have flipped the table. But by the way he hurried to answer, I got the feeling he actually  _hoped_ it’d be a work-related call. He was worried sick for that girl. I knew her; Ymir was tough and wouldn’t let anyone fuck with her.

But no, Erwin just had to play Jesus at all time, picking up stray fucked up people from the streets and trying to patch up their lives. And every time he didn’t succeed in helping someone, he regarded it as a personal failure. I found this thing pathetic… but also kind of respected him for it.

"It’s the police…sorry." he told me, rising swiftly from his seat. "I have to go, I asked them to call me in case they found Ymir. I gotta run-" he paused, and I watched him with a stunned look as he lifted his hand to touch my arm; but he changed his mind halfway, and tried to pass it up as an attempt to straighten his shirt sleeve.

"See you." he added out of breath, already making his way to the hallway to slip on his jacket.

"Yeah, whatever" I was so pissed at him, I didn’t deem him worthy of a proper goodbye.

He looked at me with big, regretful eyes like a giant damn puppy as he brought the phone back to his ear. But I wouldn’t accept his silent apology.

"Hello? Yes, yes." with one arm trapped awkwardly in the jacket, he clumsily opened the door with the other’s shaky fingers. "I’m the social worker, Smith. About Ymir…" and then his voice faded through the stairs, and the further he got the more pissed I became. If I knew he’d stick around for not even an hour I wouldn’t have bothered to take out those fucking ceramic plates. 


	2. Quit that shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

Hey guess what? I worked as a janitor in a fucking art institute. Yay for me sending my CV there.   
No but really it wasn't that bad.    
It was far worse.   
The walls covered in lousy graffiti, classrooms resembling a pigsty and the laboratories -for God's sake, paint all you want but at least have the decency to _not_ spray acrylic on the walls 'cause that shit is _synthetic_ and can't be washed out- all of this crap just made me cry and piss blood. Seriously, that place was a shithole. The floors were littered with a sea of scrap papers and all kinds of junk. Pencil leads were strewn everywhere, and long forgotten eraser bits, markers, brushes were discarded in every damn corner. In every other kind of school, freshmen usually acted all composed and shit and seniors were the devil incarnate. But at art school everything was fucked up and students acted like freaking punks since day one. It was like as soon as they stepped in the school they became possessed or something; you could almost see those chubby little angels morph into a swarm of Beelzebub's minions (granted, they weren't all like that. But those saint exceptions just proved the demonic rule).    
Those brats felt like they were allowed to do anything just because they were "artists"; they scrawled stick dicks on the walls, and scribbled oh-so-poetic and fucking cliché Jim Morrison's quotes with permanent markers on the desks, and even left dumb, "ACAB" style writings on the chalkboard. You want me to say it? I'm gonna say it. I fucking hated each and every one of those bastards' guts.    
All of them (well not everyone, Mina, Franz and Tomas were alright I guess) were a pain in the ass, but the kids in class 10, ward 4 were the absolute worst. Not only were they confined to the farthest and shittiest corner of the institute (a fucking pigeonhole that is), they were only sophomores but fucking noisy pests.    
They were a bunch of walking human cases, I don't even know where to begin to describe them. There was this 15-year-old brat prey to a never ending, hormonal induced rage, aka Eren Jaeger. I bet that even if he won the lottery he would still look like something crawled up his ass and died. He usually directed his anger towards the kid sitting on the other side of the class, Jean Kirsch-something. Everyone called him horse face, and in my humble opinion he had a horse brain too; it seemed that his only purpose in life was to taunt Eren, and that usually ended with the two of them beating the living shit out of each other. It was all mainly due to Jean wanting to get in that half-Asian girl’s pants and thinking that Eren did too. Really, a few well aimed whacks with my mop and they both would have calmed the fuck down.   
Then there was this lanky, kinda awkward dude that was practically Jean's shadow, Marco Bodt. His classmates all called him "freckled Jesus" 'cause he gave off such a freaking peaceful aura you'd think he had valerian flowing in his veins rather than blood. It didn't have much effect on me anyway. Well, at least I didn't want to shove the sodden mop in his mouth. Back to business now though. There were these two kids who were joined at the hip called Connie and Sasha: frankly I don't know who's worse between the two. Probably Sasha, because at least Connie just had a ridiculous buzz and acted like some kind of loser American rapper, while his friend (or girlfriend? Well, don't really care either way) had an unhealthy fixation on food -especially potatoes. I've seen her literally launch herself at the lunch lady when they served roast potatoes at the cafeteria, and believe me, it was one of the most unsettling things I've ever witnessed in my sorry life.    
Back to my lil' Mr Sunshine, Jaeger, he didn't go anywhere without his two besties for life: Mikasa Ackerman (yes, the infamous half-asian) and Armin Arlert (a 15 years old version of He-Man). Mikasa was a cute girl but she knew how to deliver some mean punches so no one actually had the courage to fuck with her -or with Eren, her stepbrother. Armin was a quiet kid, always carrying a book under his arm, but once or twice I've seen him lose it and get mad, and shit the boy did have a pair after all. These three childhood friends actually competed for the title of "golden trio" with Bertholdt Fubar, Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhardt. Now, what to say about those three? They were all quiet, especially Annie. They kept mostly to themselves and didn't interact much with the others, preferring to mind their own sweet fucking business. Annie was a meaner puncher than Mikasa, Reiner sometimes shared these really dumb jokes (mostly regarding asses, I bet his brain was butt shaped too) and Bertholdt had the ability to sweat like a pig (whether or not it was actually hot) and saturated the air in the classroom with his stench.    
At last, there was the girl who had been the subject of mine and Erwin's discussion some nights before, Ymir. Her dad was Algerian and her mom Norwegian; I didn't know what happened to her father but I knew too well what was wrong with her mother 'cause.. no, now's not the time to bring up my fucked up story. Anyway, her mother was a junkie. Erwin had made his personal mission to help the little girl, and he had succeeded in giving her in custody to a new family when she was still seven (while he himself was at one of the first cases in his career). Ending up in a loving and caring family hadn't made it any easier for Ymir, who since then tried her very best to make Erwin's life a living hell (like he needed her help with that, really).    
As I walked into the school that afternoon, I thought that after all I did pity the girl a bit. And even if I believed that she was a whiny ungrateful bitch, I would have just _loved_ to throw an entire bucket of bleach on the heads of the bastards who tormented her for being gay and mixed race. Anyway, she too like Jean had her own personal little angel. A tiny blond cutie who almost looked ethereal, and whose name was Christa. I had bet a whole carton of cigarettes with Keith (the nutty, military crazed PE teacher who looked like he had come out straight of Full Metal Jacket and loved to shower his students with the weirdest insults) that those two would have ended up together before the end of their second year.           
Talking about cigarettes, I lighted one as I made my way towards the classrooms on the first floor. I had come up with the perfect technique that allowed me to smoke without making a mess inside the school, and that had earned me the jealousy of the entire teaching body (that wished they could peacefully enjoy a smoke too after the students had gone home). Oh yeah, they probably hated me because I occasionally enjoyed to terrorize them too. Anyway, smoking inside the school was illegal and would get you a disciplinary sanction and blah blah blah but no one had dared to tell me anything since my first day of work there, five years before.    
I mumbled a quiet "morning" passing by the teachers' lounge, and I heard them talking about Ymir. Most of them ignored me, but I sensed a few eyes turning to me in curiosity and following me; after all it was no secret that the kid and me shared the same social worker. I ignored those pigs' annoying stares and put on my earbuds a bit vehemently. I didn't want to answer any questions, officially I knew no more than they did and in any case I was not the one to rat on anybody. And even if I were, protocol-freak Erwin wouldn't let me (I swear, it was like he thought his dick would go limp if he let anything slip about any of his cases).    
Jethro Tull blasting in my ears, I kept doing my work at a swift pace, occasionally lighting a new cigarette for the joy of my lungs. I took the elevator to reach ward 4 (there was no way in hell I was using the stairs with all the shit I had to bring along) and went straight to classroom 10; it was most likely that Bertholdt hadn't come to school 'cause I didn't catch his godawful smell (thank God). I felt my spirits lift up at this, and with _Locomotive Breath_ making love to my ears I almost felt happydespite all the work I had to do.    
But not, because when I entered the classroom I found Ymir there sitting with her feet propped up on her desk (and leaving dirt everywhere with her muddy boots, I would have chopped her feet off and stuffed them in her mouth). She had her head resting lazily on her hand, and was looking out of the window with a bored, "I don't give a flying shit about anything" kind of look.    
I took off my earbuds and resisted the urge to manhandle her out of the goddamn class. "Yorke, out."   
She looked at me the way you'd look at the shit of someone else's dog.    
"No."   
"Out."   
"I wanna stay here. Go to hell."   
"Out of the classroom, or I'll get Pixis" I didn't want to resort to this, but I had no other choice. As much as I wanted to, I really couldn't throw her out of the window.   
"I don't give a damn" she laughed, making a point to shuffle her dirty feet on the desk. Bitch.    
"Neither do I" I replied, sticking yet another cigarette between my lips and opening the windows. While I waited for her to get the hell out of the class, I needed to get on with the work. "I'm not the one who will end up getting in trouble for getting in the way."   
Ymir shrugged her shoulders, clad in a grey jumper way too big for her. It was not like her adoptive family was poor or anything, but she wanted others to believe the sad story of the pitiful orphan with a difficult life. Still, she wasn't the only orphan in that class, as far as I knew.    
"Hey, do your classmates ever beat you or something?"   
She probably wasn't expecting this, 'cause she kept silent and didn't answer.    
"I'd say a few kicks would do you good" _you cow,_ I wanted to add.   
"Shut the fuck up."   
"What are you doing here at this hour, Yorke?" I pressed her, taking a long drag from my cigarette. I wanted to make her mad, so that maybe she would decide to leave my fucking classroom on her own. She didn't answer this time either. And I maliciously kept nagging her, rearranging the desks in a relaxed fashion meanwhile. "Reading a book? Singing some songs?" _sucking some dick?_ this one I kept to myself too.   
"Mind your own fucking business."   
"Minding my own fucking business translates to cleaning this room for a ridiculously low amount of money that is not enough to even buy food. So just get the fuck out already" I stared hard at her, flicking my cigarette's ash out of the window.   
"You don't know shit" she gritted through her teeth. Her eyes were blazing, trying to cut through me, but I just stared back unaffected. I decided to change my approach.   
"Like what?"   
"You don't know how it's like to be me."   
"Uh uh, interesting" I didn't five a fuck, really. Broom in hand, I started sweeping the floor.    
"Don't make fun of me."   
"Never!"   
"I said don't make fun of me, you son of a bitch!"    
"Never!" I said again. I was starting to get annoyed by all of this, and the fact that I wasn't able to insult her the way she deserved because of my job's restrictions. A real pain in the ass.   
"Cut it out!"   
"I'm sorry, miss" I continued to tease her, as I crouched to retrieve some discarded pencils' leads from under a cabinet.    
"You know what they did to me today?" she wanted to stun me into silence, but she had found a good run for her money. She was tough, but she had no idea how much tougher than her I was.   
"Nope."   
"They asked me who's the man between me and Christa."   
Aaah, I could almost feel the taste of that good carton of cigarettes. All for me. Take that, Keith. "And?"   
" 'And'? What? I knew you were touched in the head, but I didn't know you were such a retard."    
I let her talk without saying anything. I was too busy drooling at the idea of the cigarettes Keith owed me to think about that brat's problems. And honestly if this was the worst she got, she could manage by herself.    
She looked at me as I started to wipe out from the chalkboard the phrase "SILENCE WILL FALL WHEN THE QUESTION IS ASKED" (yes, typical of any math or history class) not paying her much attention, and without waiting for a reply she continued "And that pisses me off. It pisses me off having to explain everything to those shitheads, how sex between girls works and shit like that. I just want to hit them"   
"That's right" I told her, clearing the teacher's desk from the left behind stationary. "But like, just fuck them."   
"What?"   
"Listen Yorke, I don't' think you were born yesterday but honestly I wouldn’t expect this kind of behavior from someone who can beat the shit out of people the way you do. Do what you want, punch them in the mouth, kick them in the stomach or in the groin. Just don't give me crap with your cheap problems."   
"And what are _your_ problems?"   
"Are you deaf?" and retard too, like she had told me, but I didn't say that out loud. "Life's not always rainbows and butterflies, and you've got to make a choice. You can either keep your head held high, or bury it into shit and crying shit about sinking in the shit" I was dead serious, talking like this to that girl. Yes, this brat grated on my nerves like pretty much everyone else in this goddamn school but did I _hate_ her? Not at all. Watching other people sink in the same shit I went through made my hands itch with the need to yank them up by their hair. There was only one thing getting in the way, no actually two; the first one was my pride (I did it on my own), and the other one was their own free will (I had no right to help them if they didn't want to be helped).   
Ymir opened her mouth to retort but we were both stopped mid tracks by the sound of someone's labored breath coming from the hallway. I stuck my head out of the door to see who it was and almost collided with a broad, shirt and tie clad chest, with a vague scent of Allure Homme Sport.   
I retracted swiftly and looked up at the social worker's entire frame blocking the door. He was wearing the same grey jacket from a couple of weeks before, when he had visited me. His hair still looked messy and dry (seriously, I had to suggest him a better brand of shampoo) and he still sported the same worn out face. He was panting, though he hadn't sweat much. "The fuck Erwin, you ran the Paris-Dakar or something?"   
Still wheezing, he made a small gesture with his right hand "Hi Levi. No, I just took the stairs". I was about to make some rude joke on getting old but Erwin cut me off. "Hello Ymir."   
"My mom's looking for me ain't she?"   
"Yes, Ymir."   
"Well, you can tell her to fuck herself."   
"Come on Ymir, there's Christa at your house too. She's really worried and your mom's trying to comfort her."   
At the mention of Christa, Ymir stood up from her set and made her way towards the door where Erwin was standing. "Move" she barked, and bumped his shoulder while exiting the classroom, now empty save from myself and the shit I still had to clean. Erwin kept looking at her as she disappeared down the stairs with long strides.   
"Well, thank you" I grumbled, finally starting to clean the desk where Ymir had been sitting.   
He didn't answer straight away. I heard the sound of his shoe's heel on the floor and wondered if he was leaving without even saying a sodding "goodbye".   
"For what?"   
"I couldn't for the life of me get her out of this freaking room" I replied, furiously scrubbing the mud Ymir had sent flying everywhere with her damn shoes.    
Erwin let out a tired sigh. "She's going through a lot.."   
"You told me that already" I took another cigarette out of the crumpled packet.    
"Ah, you're right. Sorry."   
"Erwin" I turned to look at him. He had always acted over politely but his behavior had just been plain weird lately. Also, he had a great physique and told me that he went for a jog every morning. That short breath just clashed horribly with his fit image. "Are you okay?"   
His lips tugged up in a small smile and he waved his hand. "I'm fine, no need to worry"   
"You're panting like a damn horse. Gross."   
"I just ran up the stairs.."   
"Yeah, let's just say I believe you for now" I blurted, as put the mop in the bucket and soaked it with water. "Just take care of yourself, idiot."   
"Yes, yes. I already do"   
"Hey, are you not going to go after that girl?" I started to mop the floor, the fresh scent of lemons hitting my nostrils and mixing with the aftertaste of tobacco in my mouth. The mix felt wonderful, even "harmonic" -and I never use these big, posh words. "If she keeps running like that she'll get hit by a car."   
"No, there's no need to. Christa is the best incentive."   
"Yeah, I figured as much. Then what the fuck are you doing still here?" I rested my chin on the top of the mop, and made a shooing gesture with my free hand.   
He chuckled at my antics and shrugged. "Zakarius will do the next check-up in my place."   
Ah, I knew who he was; the dude I had mistook for Erwin's brother. He had blond hair too but more on the mousy side, he was taller and lankier than Erwin, and he sported a big mustache and goatee. His name was Mike, and he always had on him a lingering scent of smoke.   
We had shared a cigarette on a couple occasions. He was okay. Looser than Erwin too.   
"Mike?"   
"Yes."    
"Fine. You busy?"   
 He didn't want to answer this, that shitty bastard, 'cause he turned to leave the classroom. "Very. See you, Levi. If you need anything, just call the office."   
"Bye."   
"Goodbye."   
I saw him reaching the elevator and standing there, unsure, for a few seconds before deciding to take the stairs. His steps were careful and slow, like an old man's. I wondered what the fuck happened to him. He looked like a wet joint: the idea was alluring but in fact it had no use. Believe me, in the past I had seen him with a broken nose, black eye, and even with a broken arm, but he was always there, standing in his revolting perfection (he wasn't _perfect,_ I didn't believe anything in the world was, but he was the closest thing to my idea of perfection. Something that never comes crumbling down), always ready to give everyone good-natured advices and never bore grudges against anybody, or at least I didn't know about it. It honestly upset me to see him like that, with the ruined hair and short breath.   
I thought about what could be wrong with him all day long, with Jethro Tull blasting in my ears, and didn't stop not even when at night I fell on my bad, after downing three beers (tomorrow's sunday anyway, I told myself. These are the usual saturdays' nights for broke singles, all booze and hand-jobs). I burped and started to doze off. After hours and hours of thinking -well, I didn't have much to do anyway- I had reached just one conclusion.    
Work was tiring him out.


	3. Because, you see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank itsnotapastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

I was making my way back home staggering like a homeless drunkard, the hood of my green sweatshirt pulled low on my hunched head. A cigarette dangled from my lips and I kept my hands stubbornly in my pockets; I was so far gone that I didn't even care to flick off the ashes. I really looked like a tramp, except that I did have a roof that sheltered my sorry head and that was exactly where I was, slowly, heading.   
I had been at Erd's earlier, with Petra, Gunter and Auruo. The five of us were from the old guard; lifelong friends who had stuck together through all the shit that had happened to us during and after high school. Among the five of us, Erd was the one that had the least on his plate: his mom was old and ill and he looked after her lovingly, spending a good deal of his earnings to everything that could help her live her last years with dignity. Petra, the poor girl, had to take care of her four and seven year old brothers by herself when she was barely nineteen; but she was doing great, as far as I could see. Gunter had tried his luck overseas, but had lost everything he had and had spent a few months in prison for getting involved in some shady business. And Auruo had kept me company for years in that place.  
But here we were - still hanging out and playing around like kids. Or more like, they did; I just watched them in amusement, drinking quietly and feeling lightheaded (though that could have been the beer's fault and the joint's we had smoked together). It felt good to know that they were all alive, that we were all alive, and that we would stick around for some time too. We were too tough, had too many scars on our backs for anything to really break us, and we stood firm like five pebbles in life's storm.  
Anyway, I knew perfectly well what, or more like who, was the glue that held us together, clinging desperately to each other: the social worker Smith. Smith, who had persuaded the hospital where Erd’s mother was being treated to lower their fees so that Erd, who just a baker, could afford the bills. Smith, who had helped Petra to look for aid when she couldn't take care of her little brothers on her own. Smith, who had gone to great lengths to help Gunter get subsidies to start his new job. Smith, who had taken me and Auruo out of that awful place and helped us to kick that awful addiction.       
I heard Erd's hearty laugh and turned to see him walking in the kitchen carrying a big checkered sheet and two heavy tomes under his arms. I sighed and rolled my eyes as everyone else in the room jumped in their seats in excitement. What's better than getting drunk with your friends and having an impromptu D&D session? Erd made up this half-assed story where I (who didn't want to play) was the dark lord of an aseptic ultra clean world, while the others (the heroes of the game) were a bunch of grimy boors whose mission was to bring filth back to its past, rusty glory. In the centre of their kingdom stood a pile of shit, which was tall as a tower. I almost spat my beer at that: Erd's description was so accurate and detailed (and I was so drunk) that I almost felt its revolting smell hit my nostrils. Eew.    
They threw the dices in the most idiotic ways. When the d20 (a 20 face dice used to validate a move) rolled and fell the floor three voices shouted "JUMANJI!" to say that the throw was still valid even though it had hit the floor. Erd didn't allow the "Jumanji" every time though, but we were absolutely wasted and fighting a shit tower or something, and no one really gave a fuck anymore. I almost choked on the d6 (a standard cube dice) that had ended up God knows how in my glass. I made a great show of spewing my drink all over the table while the others laughed their asses off. We were lucky Erd lived in a small cottage at the outskirts of the town, so that no fussy neighbors would complain about keeping them up so late on a Saturday night.  
At last we got bored of the game so we decided to clear everything up. It was two in the morning when we started to feel hungry and decided to make some pizza; well, I didn't really help them with the cooking as I was busy cleaning up the mess they were making with the dough. I just can't help it, dirt seriously upsets me. I'm not proud of it and I'm aware that it's almost an illness. But those four idiots actually made it fun for me, and I silently thanked them in my head for not making me feeling overly self-conscious about my condition.  
My stomach growled loudly as we sat at the table to eat the large, thick homemade pizza we had just taken out of the oven. I was so hungry. Even though none of them mentioned it, I knew my friends all worried about the little money I had (a great deal of which I had to save due to my unhealthy fixation with cleaning). It's not like I starved myself, but I often had to skip a few meals. They gave me the biggest slice, and their leftovers and crusts too. I wolfed down all of it. Petra even left me half of her portion but I was stuffed already; and you know what she did? She wrapped it in foil and told me to take it home with me. She was an angel.  
I threw myself on one of the lawn chairs Erd kept on the veranda massaging my full stomach. The pizza hadn't helped us to sober up and we were all still tipsy. I had actually wanted to wash the dishes, but Erd had pushed me out on the veranda together with Petra. They locked us outside, shoving in our hands another beer each: when I heard the click of the lock I felt a shiver down my spine and the urge to run. I glanced at Petra; I wasn't a romantic sap by any means but I wasn't stupid either, and I knew what all of this was about. I just knew, no need for explanations.  
She took the beer from my hands, and the touch made me break in a cold sweat. I looked in her hazel eyes and she smiled at me, while she uncorked the bottle with small delicate fingers. And for a moment I wished she would hurt herself, so that they'd let us back into the house; but nothing happened, and I angrily took the beer she was offering me. I put my lips to the bottle and turned my head away from her, looking at the dark sky over our heads, her eyes boring in my back.  
You get what I mean when I say I 'wanted to run'? It was all I could think about at the moment. She was talking softly, telling me things both kind and sad, but I couldn't hear her. I didn't want to hear her, because Petra was such a good, frail girl and I was a dick with no inhibitions thanks to the beer and I would have only spewed hurtful shit at the moment. And I loved her and I didn't want to hurt her.  
When she said something along the lines of "I feel so alone with the kids, I wish I had a man by my side" was the last straw and I just lost it. I banged my fists on the door, shouting that I had to take a piss and needed to go back inside. I didn't have the courage to look at Petra. I barged into the house, threw the empty bottle and grabbed the leftover pizza and ran as the fucking disgusting coward that I was, leaving a hastily mumbled "g'night" behind.  
And there I was, hands buried in my pockets and wrapped around the still warm pizza, followed closely by my thoughts, the sound of their footsteps ringing loudly in my ears. Petra. Petra had never quite understood me. Granted, I had never been completely honest with her either. We were sixteen or seventeen when we made out in the park, and sometimes our hands wandered south; we had had sex once, when we were both drunk at a party at Auruo's, on his mum's lumpy bed that smelled of naphthalene and lavender. I didn't know what the fuck she saw in an outcast and a misfit like me. Maybe I triggered her protective instincts. Who knows.  
The sound of the footsteps got louder and I soon realized (still slightly high) that it wasn't the sound of my thoughts at all. I suddenly stopped and turned around, and almost pissed myself.  
His eyes were small and beady, high cheekbones protruding on his hollow face. The streetlight made his hairstyle look even more ridiculous and only highlighted the few facial hairs he ever so proudly called his ‘mustache’. Nile Dawk was ugly as sin, with his cop uniform wrinkled and too big for him.  
"..'Night" I said with a bit of a slur. I turned on my heels and started walking away as if I hadn't seen him, but he caught up to me and planted himself at my side.  
"It's three in the morning, what are you doing here? Don't you have work tomorrow?"  
As if he had any fucking right to chide me. From the ridiculous bulge in his pants I could tell he had been in the sweet company of whore not long ago.  
"Tomorrow.. no, today.. is Sunday."  
That wasn't enough to make him shut his trap. "I'm watching you, you know."  
"Do what the fuck you want..."  
"I see you haven't changed a bit, have you?"  
"You're one to talk."  
It was like Nile had nothing better to do than going around acting like a goddamn stalker. Sometimes I thought that he did it to stare at my ass, waiting for the chance to feel it up.  
"Are you testing me, boy?"  
"Fuck you, Nile."  
"I could charge you for insulting a police officer."  
"Do it."  
"I'd rather catch you doing something worse, so that I can rub it in that bastard's face that I was right years ago" he said with a snigger.  
I think you already guessed who "the bastard" is, but still. It was Smith. To stop my fist from colliding with his ugly face, I lit myself another cigarette with shaking hands. "You wish."  
“Yeah act tough all you want, you’ve got Smith to cover your ass anyway right?” Hearing him saying “ass” gave me the creeps. "But one day Smith will no longer be there to help you, and when you'll finally trip and fall I'll be there ready to welcome you with open handcuffs" he sniggered, please with his sick sense of humor. Yeah, fucking hilarious Nile.  
But how far away was my apartment still? With Nile breathing down my neck it was taking forever to get back home. Or maybe it had to do with me being hella tired and still drunk. "Why don't you do like me?" I asked him, coming to a halt as the traffic light turned red. Even though it was the middle of the night and no one came to this area this late, traffic lights hadn't been switched off. Any other time I would have crossed the road anyway, but there was Nile.  
"Do what?"  
"Mind your own fucking business."  
I had gone too far and now he was royally pissed.  
Everything happened in the span of a few seconds but for me, drenched in alcohol, time stretched uncomfortably. Nile swore and snatched off my hood to look into my blown pupils.  
"You're kidding me!" he growled and roughly grabbed my arm with one hand, trying to lift my sleeve with the other.  
I reacted like a cornered animal whose only goal is to escape his captor and shoved Nile to free myself from the man's vile grip. I pressed the still lit cigarette to his hand; it doesn't hurt that much but the bastard howled in pain and let go of my arm. I ran away as fast as I could. At some point my pack of cigarettes fell but I didn't care; I just wanted to get the hell away from Nile, away from everybody and everything, as fast as I could.  
When I reached my house at last I loudly ran up the stairs, fuck it if it was three in the morning and I would have woken up someone. I wouldn't feel completely safe until I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me with two turns of the key.  
I shut the door with a bang and threw the keys on the floor, falling on my knees and curling on myself with my back pressed against the closed door. I felt violated. Nile had completely stripped me of any shreds of dignity I had fought so hard to build up again in the past five years, screaming and kicking to let the world know that I was there too, that I had become a good person, that I wanted to change and be helpful. That I was a poor loser but I was ready to put myself on the line, to start anew even if it would take time. And Erwin had made sure I got there. He had been patient, he had endured my punches and a few cigarettes put out on his hands; but he never gave up. He knew, he felt it in his bones that there was something good in me, that I had potential. Beyond the wildest expectation he had believed in me - and just like that he had tied me to him, because his trust was genuine and so true. I was scared by how much it affected me, and at the same time I needed it to make all the bad stuff go away. And just as with Petra, I hadn't had the guts to let him down.  
I pressed my hands to my ears.  
 

   
 _Wake up in the morning with a head like, “What you’ve done?”_  
This used to be the life but I don’t need another one.  
Good luck cuttin’ nothin’, carrying on, you wear them gowns  
So how come I feel lonely when you’re up getting do-  


  
"Shit, fuck you!" I shouted angrily at Shears and his shrill voice, hands fumbling in my jeans' pockets to retrieve my ringing phone. The song was still going on and I prayed with every fiber of my being that Erwin wouldn't hang up, not this time. I didn't want to make him wait tonight. With a growl I took out my phone and pressed it to my ear "Erwin!"  
"Levi."  
Nothing in the world is more soothing than his deep calm voice. "Fuck, fuck-" I was too confused, head spinning fast from the anger. I couldn't understand, couldn't see or hear anything but I was sure of one thing: I needed him and, shit, I was so relieved he'd called me. I didn't even want to know why, he just did and right when I craved it.  
"Take a deep breath and try to calm down."  
I did as he told me. I focused on his voice only, and I noticed it was full of sleep.  
"Good, Levi."  
We didn't say anything for a while. He waited for me to cool off and then talked again. I almost moaned when I heard his voice once more, from a satisfaction that I couldn’t explain and had nothing to do with anything sexual.  
"Nile just called me.. he told me what happened. He wants me to keep an eye on you for the night. But if you feel okay now then there's no need-"  
"Hurry up and bring your sorry ass over here."  
The wait felt excruciatingly long, even though it actually didn't last more than fifteen minutes. Erwin was quick and efficient in everything he did. It is true that I had no clue where he lived.  
I let him in as soon as the doorbell rang, and as he walked through the threshold I took a good look at him. He was still wheezing softly and unsuccessfully trying to hide it. I had clearly pulled him out of the bed, messy blond hair sticking up and a jumper hastily worn over his pajama. I was still high enough to think that his eyes were blue as the sea, the color enhanced by the dark shadows circling them.  
"Are you okay?" he asked, taking off the jumper to reveal a simple white vest underneath. He had well-defined arms, not too big, and oh God I wanted him to wrap them around me.  
"Better than before" I grunted. I walked to the kitchen and put the leftover pizza I still held in my hands on the table. "Turn the TV on, and if you're hungry help yourself" I don't know why but I always felt like Erwin needed to eat. Perhaps I just projected my own needs on him. "I'm going to take a shower"  
I walked to the bathroom shuffling my feet, leaving Erwin on his own. It was fine, I would have let him do pretty much anything in my house except for dirtying it. Or maybe that too.  
I stripped, avoiding to look at myself in the mirror, and jumped in the shower. I turned the tap on so that the water would be scorching hot, to wash everything away: the germs, dirt, everything that was wrong in this world. Keeping my arms well out of the water's path I rested my forehead on the shower's tiles and let the water flow on my shoulders, chest, back, legs, through my hair and into my eyes. I wanted it to go everywhere, even on my arms, and wash away everything. Every mark. Every memory. Everything.  
I felt my knees shake but didn't fall.  
I felt my throat burn but didn't call for him.  
I closed my eyes and pretended that the water hitting my neck was the gentle touch of his lips. I imagined Erwin coming into the bathroom, stripping and joining me in the shower, hugging me from behind. I was so small next him. I felt his hands on my shoulders, and down to my arms. I didn't recoil at the thought, not even when in my fantasy he touched the inside of my elbows. I let him do it.  
I let him cover with his big hands the hideous mass of scar tissue, a memento of all the times I shot up on heroin, and trace the other scarce marks that dotted my arms from when I couldn't find veins anymore. Every blemish vanished under his touch, and I wasn't brave enough to break down the impenetrable walls I had built all around me to shout how grateful I was.  
I got out of the shower when the water turned icy, soaking wet and a bit more sober. I knew the damned water bill would make me broke but I didn’t care because I felt better after the shower and the (innocent for once) fantasy I had. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror but I didn't flinch, not this time.  
I put on a tank top and a pair of shorts (both black) and didn't dry my hair off, hoping that wet hair would help me to sober up and keep a grip on myself. I shuffled back to the living room looking for Erwin, following the soft rasping sound of snoring that came out of the room. I found him on the couch, head thrown back, mouth open and palms resting on his thighs.  
I shook his shoulder gently to wake him, having made up my mind already. "Erwin" all I received in answer was a grunt. I took a hold of his middle finger and pulled him towards me, like a child would do with a parent. "Come to bed."  
He opened his eyes and rubbed them tiredly, letting out a big yawn. He took a hold of the hollow of my right arm and I felt my stomach flip violently.  
"I was able to make Nile see reason" he said standing up, fingers intensifying their grip on the scars on my arm. "There won't be a second time though. Keep a cool head, Levi."  
I pried his hand away and got a look of a couple of the cigarette burns I had given him while doing so. "Whatever" I replied nonchalantly, trying to mask my guilt and knowing that he was damn right. I had to keep my cool, understand and bear with it. Make some sacrifices. I felt like I could endure pretty much anything with him standing so close to me.  
We got to my room and lay on the bed. I snuggled under the covers and he did the same after me (the ever so polite Erwin, he wouldn't have thought of doing anything on his own accord). Even though we were on a king size bed, legs and arms so distant from each other, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I wondered whether it was normal for him to be this hot, or if I should have worried for his health. In the silence of the room, I heard him rearranging his pillow and trying to fold it in twice.  
"Wait" I murmured "take mine". It was the pillow I usually slept on. I looked at him while he put it under his head with a whispered "thank you" and my damn stomach flipped again. I felt thrilled like an idiot knowing that he would sleep surrounded by my scent. In my bed. Even though we weren't touching.  
I lay on my side looking at him, and I was so excited (and I'm not talking about my dick) that I couldn't fall asleep until I made sure he was indeed sleeping. I listened to him breathing and this time, with two pillows under his head, the rasping sound stopped. I wasn't any good at thanking him with words but I could do something, even if it was such a small thing as this.  
I wasn't a virgin and I had slept many times with many people of different races, gender and religions. I had shared that bed with more than one person, smoking a cigarette after sex, but in that moment, as I looked at Erwin snoring softly, I felt a fucking pang at my heart that whispered in my ear, in a sweet devil voice, that I would have never wanted anyone else in my bed anymore. Until the day I died.  
I had never done something so intimate with anyone. And at this thought, I finally fell asleep.     



	4. I really want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

I woke up to a warm and nice feeling coming down from my groin. I grunted and groggily opened my eyes to find Erwin's head between my thighs. He looked back at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes; he had probably been trying to wake me up like that, mouthing my erection through my shorts for some time already.    
I let out a quiet chuckle and let him have his way, tangling my fingers in his soft straight locks as he pulled down my underwear. He placed a kiss on the tip of my freed cock and swirled his hot tongue around it, while he lazily stroked my shaft with his right hand. He went on like that for a whileand all the teasing felt nice, yes, but I needed more. "Come on," I urged him and he chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, and obliged.   
I threw my head back in pleasure. He was skilled at sucking cock, more than I ever thought possible. I loved the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping me, the way his cheeks hollowed every time his head bobbed down. I felt my dick hit the back of his throat once, twice, and I feared that if he kept doing that I would come too soon. I suspected the bastard was actually doing it on purpose. I actually wouldn't have minded filling his mouth with my spunk.The idea was thrilling and made me feel like I was in command. I pushed his head even lower and kept it there with my hands. One of Erwin's hands sneaked under my tank top and traveled slowly towards my chest. He took one of my nipples between his fingers and squeezed roughly, and I let out a loud moan and loosed my grip on his hair.   
Erwin raised his head, strings of saliva connecting his mouth to my flushed dick. He wasall pink cheeks and smirking eyes and he licked his lips while staring at me. Suddenly I found his clothed erection shoved into my face as he grabbed me from under my armpits and raised me into a sitting position on the bed. My wrists were high on my head trapped by one of his big hands. The thought of what he was going to do made me salivate in anticipation; I felt like his bitch and the idea fucking turned me on. He must have noticed because he put his free hand near my mouth and I didn't even think twice about it before taking his thumb between my lips and sucked on it in the lewdest way possible, peeking up at him through my eyelashes. "Good boy," he said, stroking my hair. He took off his underwear and I found my face just a few millimeters from his big pulsing cock.  
And then he did something that I actually didn't like at first; he grabbed his erection with his hand and rubbed it on my face, smearing pre-come all over it. I found it gross and hot at the same time, especially when ittrailed near my lips. Annoyed at his antics, I suddenly turned my head and took him entirely in my mouth. I heard him moan on top of me and it felt great. He let me suck him for a while and I enjoyed myself, especially since he actually didn't taste half bad. But then he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head away from him. With the same hand, he pried my mouth open andused his thumb to push against the inside of my cheek. "Open your mouth wider." I did as he told me. "And don't move."  
I don't even know how to tell you how fucking turned on I was. I was so far gone that I let him do everything on his own accord. I let him push himself into my mouth and all the way down my throat as he pleased, andlet him decide the rhythm, slower at first and then faster and harder. Luckily I had no gag reflex, and him thrusting roughly in my mouth only served to arouse me even more. "Yes, good. Moan for me." I hadn't even noticed I was doing that until he told me. It wasn't that I actually felt good by the act per se. I just loved being used like that by him.   
I felt disappointed when after two last deep thrusts, he pulled out. He could have come in my mouth, I wouldn't have minded too much. It didn't feel dirty, since I knew he tasted good and clean. He let go of my wrists at last, took off my shorts and pulled my thighs towards him. He turned me on my side and I let him handle me like I was a rag doll; I wanted him to. Pushing one of my legs against the mattress, Erwin raised my other leg and put it over his shoulder and sat between my spread legs. Fuck, yes, I loved this position. I looked at him as he put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in spit and I moaned again as he thrust them unceremoniously into my ass. I didn't need to get used to his thick fingers, I was ready to take his cock, desperate to. "Hurry up and fuck me." I groaned, punching the mattress in frustration.   
"You're such a slut." He hissed, and without preamble, pushed himself brutally deep inside me. My toes curled in pleasure and I begged him to slam into me harder, to use me, to hurt me, to tear my ass in two. He fucked me like an animal, just like I asked him to. My head hit the headboard with each thrust, which in turn slammed repeatedly into the wall. The bed creaked loudly and I panted like a fucking horse, grabbing one of my ass-cheek and lifting it to let him have a better view. "You're so tight for being a whore," and at these words I lost it completely. He kept thrusting at a rough pace, hurting me in the most delicious way, until I came hard, shouting his name, sending come flying in every direction.                               
   
And then I opened my eyes and I realized that it was afternoon already and I was alone in an empty bed.   
Oh come on, don't tell me you believed this crap. Seriously, if you did then you don't know shit about how gay sex works. Real sex, not the shit you read in those cheap porn novels or on the internet. Using spit as lubricant? You've got to be kidding me. And you clearly don't know Erwin Smith at all. Do you really think he would say such things during sex? Are we even talking about the same person?  
And he would never even dream of touching me like that in the first place. I already told you, he had his own strict protocol to follow and the first rule he had imposed on himself was not to "get involved with his clients." Yeah, okay, he had to keep it professional and everything. I understood that much. But whatever.It's not like letting loose sometimes would hurt him.   
I searched blindly on the nightstand for my phone but couldn't find it. Weird, I was sure I left it there the night before. As I sat up, head pulsating painfully from the hangover, I heard cluttering noises coming from the kitchen.  
Who the fuck--something heavy fell to the floor with a loud bang, echoed by a muffled "damn it!"  
Oh right, Erwin. But really, I didn't expect him to still be in the house. I'm sure he had some dumbass work related reason to stay anyway (it’s not like he wanted to stay. You can bet on it).  
"Don't break anything or I'll tear you a new asshole." I said in a drawl, letting him know I was awake. There was no need to shout, my house was small after all.   
"I'm sorry Levi!"  
I let out a small grunt in response, rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom. Last night's wet dream had left my pants a gross sticky mess and I felt the need to get rid of them as soon as possible and change into a fresh pair. Without giving much thought to the water bill (once again), I decided to take a quick shower. I felt a lot better when I finished. I didn't care about putting on any clothes since Erwin was still busy in the kitchen, and I came out of the bathroom in nothing but my birthday suit. I'm not gonna lie and say that I'd have minded to be seen like that by him, though. Maybe that would actually push him to finally make a move on me and fuck me good. But I knew Erwin too well to hope that these sexual delusions of mine ever become more than that--fantasies.  
I wore a plain t-shirt and loose sweatpants (I had no need to impress anyone so I didn't give a fuck) and walked over to Erwin, who wasin the kitchen.   
And then I felt like total scum for having all those dirty thoughts about him like he was some kind of porn star. Because near the stove stood Erwin Smith, wearing my baby blue apron and holding a spatula in his right hand, grilling chicken like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thin hair hung down on his forehead and at that sight I swore under my breath. He looked so much younger like that. Maybe it was the apron, that fitted him just nicely (it had always been kinda big for me), or the disheveled hair (well, by his standards anyway), but he had the most relaxed expression I had ever seen on his shitface while he casually flipped the chicken breasts in the pan.  
He turned to look at me and guess what, he gave me a fucking close-eyed smile that made my stomach lurch uncomfortably. I didn't smile back at him, though, and looked away instead in favor of trudging to the table. And there, on the smooth surface, I found a cup full of steaming tea. With no sugar. Just the way I liked it.  
"Where did you get that meat?" I asked him, grabbing my cup from the rim rather than the handle.  
"I went grocery shopping."  
"You're kidding."  
"No."  
"Who the fuck told you to?"  
Erwin patted his butt with his left hand. I admit that for a fleeting moment, I thought he was hitting on me or something. But then I realized he had touched the pocket on the back of his trousers where I could see the bulge of his wallet. Good. I was starting to feel so guilty about all of this because, well, Erwin was so innocent and kind and honest like a five year old. How could I have even thought about fucking him like an animal just a few minutes ago?  
Since he got no reply from me, Erwin spoke again. "Petra called while you were sleeping."  
I sat straighter at this and strained my ears. I felt anxious, but not as anxious as the night before. She was far away after all, and I don't know, I just felt like the rest of the world wasn't even there when I had Erwin so close to me.  
"She was really worried for you, Levi. She was relieved to know that you had made it safely back home considering the state you were in when you left Erd's house. She feared that you could have gotten hurt, or met someone..."  
"Well," I muttered, taking a sip from the cup. "I did run into Nile."  
"I told her." Erwin turned offthe heat on the stove and started to remove the external leaves from a head of lettuce. "She also told me that you don't exactly follow a healthy diet."  
He didn't say anything about how Petra had reacted to the news of me meeting with Nile. I probably should ask her directly. I looked around the kitchen and my eyes fell onto the other pocket of Erwin's trousers, and I saw my phone peeking out.   
"And you took my keys and went shopping for me?"  
"I stocked up the fridge with cheese, vegetables, milk, and eggs. In the cupboard you'll find pasta, rice and barley, some bread, and crackers. And in the freezer there are fish and different kinds of meat."  
"And you did all of this for me, moved solely by a professional spirit." I kept my gaze fixed on the short hair on the back of his head while he put the cut salad in a bowl, together with other delicacies that I never indulged myself with: corn, cherry tomatoes, and black olives.   
I expected one of his annoying witty comebacks but surprise, surprise, it didn't come. Oi Erwin, watcha doin’? Are you really stalling?   
He raised his head a bit and lowered it again after a few seconds, going back to cutting the now cooled grilled chicken in small pieces. "Sure."  
I let out an annoyed huff and finished drinking my tea. It really was just hot water but it was doing wonders for my head and soul, too. "Whatever. Gimme back my phone now."  
"Ah, right. Sorry."  
In that exact moment, he turned to hand me my phone (I could have taken it directly from his pocket but I didn't want to touch his ass. No okay, I did. But I couldn't). I wondered if he had read my messages. I looked at his honest face, clean and smooth like a baby’s butt, and his clear, albeit a bit tired blue eyes. No, Erwin Smith really didn't strike me as a liar. But it's always better not to trust anyone 100%.  
Maybe a few days ago I would have felt elated (and a bit horny too) thinking that he'd read the messages I exchanged with Auruo - sometimes I made some really lewd remarks on my dear social worker. Auruo found them hilarious and between the four of us (Petra excluded of course), we had never had any problems sharing these kind of dirty confessions.   
I sent Petra a quick text to let her know that I was okay and not to worry about me. She answered soon after and asked me if she could call me.  
I looked at Erwin mixing mayonnaise into the salad bowl. I quickly typed a 'maybe later' and after thinking about it for a second I added 'tell the guys I'm okay.'  
Erwin had already set the table for two and I tried to get mad at him for using steel cutlery and ceramic plates instead of plastic ones. I really did try, while he placed half of the bowl's content onto my plate, to resent him for all the liberties he had taken that day, but I couldn't bring myself to. It was infuriating how he always looked so perfect in my eyes with him being a big, freakishly tall pile of faults. Whywould you argue that he wasn't at fault for acting like he owned the damn place? He had invaded my territory and I should have got mad at him for that. But maybe, just maybe, I actually had to get mad at myself. At me, for complaining about this and that but actually enjoying being pampered like this by Erwin. I didn't even give a damn if he did any of it for work only, or if he actually did care.  
Not knowing what to believe, if it was his sincere goodness or the devotion to his work, I settled for pushing these thoughts down into the pit of my stomach with a large mouthful of my damned delicious salad. All of this thinking and hesitating wasn't like me. I liked trusting my instincts and acting upon them.  
"Do you like it?" he asked.  
"It's edible, that's enough." I fucking loved it.  
He laughed quietly and poured himself a glass of water. "Enough. Right. Levi, can I ask you something?"  
I looked up from my plate and licked a bit of mayonnaise that had stuck to the corner of my mouth. There was a napkin lying just in front of me, but I didn't want to waste any bit of the meal that he had prepared for me.  
"Shoot."  
"Well, I bought a toothbrush earlier since I don't particularly fancy eating without brushing my teeth after. Especially if I'm with you. So, is it okay if I borrow your toothpaste and towel?"  
Fuck, what? He had bought a toothbrush just to brush his teeth at my house? Wait, Levi, calm down. He's doing that because he knows of your condition, I tried to tell myself. There really was no other reason.   
Erwin Smith knew how to deal with people thanks both to his job and to some kind of natural talent. It was easy to think that he would have that kind of consideration for me. Yeah, it was as simple as that.  
Only then did I notice that he didn't smell of sweat and that meant he had taken a shower in my bathroom-- using my soap and drying himself with my towel. I didn't really care that he had put on the same clothes from the night before. They were still clean, or else I would have noticed. I started to nervously swing my legs without even noticing while I tried to sort out the mess in my head, caused by such a simple question. "Yeah, sure," was my hastened reply, after which I went back to stuff my face with food.  
"Thank you." he said calmly, and took a bite of his salad.  
I still felt too tense to keep quiet.  
"Oi, Erwin?"  
"Hm?"  
"Why is it that you wheeze like a dead dog every night?"  
"...What?"  
I looked at him with hard eyes, not at all impressed by his lame attempt at playing deaf. "You've been breathing like that for like, two or three weeks."  
"Ah," he smiled, a tight and false smile. What the fuck was he hiding from me, that bastard?   
"Maybe it's the heavy air in this city."  
I had to close my eyes and try my damndest to not throw my plate at him. It would have made such a lovely painting on his face, with the lettuce, chicken, and olives. And the mayonnaise, especially the mayonnaise.  
I kept munching slowly without saying a word. I was almost offended by his being all mysterious about what was wrong with him. He always acted like the Superman of the situation, scurrying here and there to save everyone's fucking day. No one would have judged him if he took a break to care for himself for once. I certainly wouldn't.   
Guess what? He kept silent, too. He kept his usual fucking composed, unreadable facade.   
I felt so nervous that I decided to take a smoke. I reached for the pack of cigarettes I had won from Keith's bet and took one out. Even though all I wanted to do in that moment was to punch him in the face (like 98% of the time), I silently offered him the packet. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile and he raised his hand, putting it between himself and the cigarettes. "No, thank you."  
"What?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. This was new. "Didn't you smoke too?" I muttered, cigarette held between my lips.  
"Not anymore."  
"Uh-uh." I put the packet away and took a long, satisfying drag. "Why did you quit?" I asked him, plopping ungracefully on the chair, arms folded over my chest and legs crossed.   
As my exact opposite, Erwin sat straight with his forearms resting delicately on the table.His hands were twined and his legs were parted. I found it funny how our postures seemed to communicate different behaviors-- mine symbolized closure while his stood for openness. But in reality it was just the contrary. There was me, always freely speaking my mind and wearing my heart on my sleeve, and then there was him, kind but infuriatingly reserved.   
"Why do you keep smoking?" He didn't mean it in a reproachful way. He didn't want to suggest that I do like him and quit, he just wanted to direct the attention somewhere else away from him.  
"Because smoking is more fun than picking flowers," I answered, arms tightening and brow furrowing in annoyance. "Why do you think, idiot?"  
Erwin chuckled, and with a smile waved a hand to dissipate the cloud of smoke I had blown in his face. "I think that you smoke because you like it. And I guess that you like it because it's relaxing."   
I swore, but he didn't even flinch. "Ding, ding, wanker. You got the right answer." I mockingly clapped my hands, directing yet another puff of smoke in his way. "And now that you guessed right, what do you want? A kiss?"  
I didn't even think too much about the words that came out of my mouth. I was just like that, no second-guessing, no over-thinking. I didn't regret asking him that, nor did I feel uncomfortable. At most he would flee the house, and I'd finally get some kind of reaction out of him.   
He didn't falter this time, my cute social worker. He shrugged, a faint smile on his lips, perfectly at ease. "Perhaps."  
I knew the bastard all too well and I didn't believe him. Oh don't get me wrong, I would have blindly trusted him with my life, knowing that he would do anything for me. But when it came to these kinds of things, to the small gestures and little things the stupid fucker stubbornly kept to himself, well, I just didn't believe him.  
That's why, without losing a single beat, I stabbed my cigarette in the ashtray and told him, "Brush your teeth first." I could play this game too.  
He didn't answer this time. See? I told you. Without sparing him a second glance, I rose from the chair and headed to the bathroom. My mouth felt disgusting after the late lunch and cigarette, and I itched with the need to wash it. Erwin silently followed me. Was he fucking with me? Well, I wouldn't be a victim to his stupid ass game.  
I took my toothbrush and he stood next to me in front of the sink with his own brand new fancy-pants one (the one with the flexible head and ergonomic rubber grip and all that expensive shit you'd expect from someone like him).   
I squeezed some paste on my toothbrush and put the tube away without giving it to Erwin. Unfazed by my bratty behavior, he just picked up the toothpaste himself. The situation was so awkward that I started feeling jittery. He was brushing his damn teeth serenely and I just stared at him through the mirror's reflection, hoping that he'd slobber toothpaste all over his top like a fucking toddler. Nothing happenedin the three minutes it took me to brush my teeth.No foam escaped his mouth or anything of the sort. I rinsed my mouth and he did the same, and I took the towel from his extended hands, fixing him with a challenging look in my eyes. Bastard. He'd never be brave enough to keep his promise. I knew him and I felt it in my bones that he was an asshole, and that he wouldn't betray his principles. I turned away from him to put away my toothbrush.   
And then I felt the warm palm of a hand settling on my nape, strong fingers gripping my jaw and twisting my face; and then a pair of full lips pressed on mine.   
Saying it like this almost sounds sweet, but it really wasn't the case because Erwin had spun me so suddenly and roughly-- and God, I just didn't expect it. My instincts kicked in and I kneed him in the groin (the height difference played to my advance), albeit not that hard. Erwin grunted in pain and lost his balance. He fell, pressing his mouth harder on mine and pushing me against the bathroom's wall.    
The feeling of being trapped vanished after a few seconds.The only thing that mattered now was his warm breath on my cheek, his hands on my shoulders and his lips on mine. It was just this and it was beyond words. I closed my eyes and relaxed against him. I opened my mouth silently telling him that he was free to kiss me if he wanted. And he did just that.   
His mouth felt hot and tasted like peppermint. He kissed me slowly, without any awkwardness, and I wondered if this was yet another wet dream. But it couldn't be, because I touched his hair and it felt dry beneath my fingertips. And in my dreams we never kissed anyway.   
Our teeth clashed only once and he broke the kiss with a quiet laugh; the sound of his low chuckle was a thousand times sexier than the dream I'd had the night before. I hoped he hadn't caught the small smile on my lips that mirrored his. He kissed me again, more eager this time, one hand gripping my tank top and the other tangled in my hair. It felt almost desperate, full of a wild burning passion-- I've always known he was that kind of lover. Nah, bullshit, I actually thought he was the romantic saccharine type. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention to the story.      
I didn't dare to grip his hair in turn, it just felt too frail. I put an arm around his neck instead, the other draped over his shoulders. We separated and I let out a breath with a hissing sound. "Fina-fucking-lly, you bastard." I growled, playfully biting and pulling on his lower lip. He liked that and I finally felt him loosen up completely, slightly panting. Damn Erwin, calm down, I thought. We haven't even made it to the bedroom yet. I took it as a sign that he was enjoying himself, that he finally, finally wanted me the way I had wanted him for so long.   
Then Erwin grabbed the back of my thighs and pulled me up and I couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe he was finally reacting. I desperately wanted to moan in his ear just how much I had been frustrated by his good looks, his kindness and his politeness for all these years. In my mind swirled flashes of what was going to come now, pictures completely different and so more intense than the lousy dreams I usually had. I saw his hands languidly stroking my thighs and flat belly. I saw him lowering his body on mine, grinding our erections together while he covered me in kisses and bites. I had the clear picture of him hungrily kissing me as he thrust into me for the first time.   
Erwin kissed me again and I tightened my hold on his neck, pulling his head down and forcing him to deepen the kiss. Now, that was a really bad decision. Everything happened in a matter of seconds. Erwin let out a strangled noise, his arms went slack and he suddenly let go of me, trying his bestnot to hurt me. Then he turned to the sink and violently coughed.  
Well, that was kind of gross. But it was nothing that couldn't be fixed by a good dose of mouthwash, I thought. I rolled my eyes and patted his back a couple times. He was still coughing, like something big had settled in his lungs and refused to come out. But I wouldn't let that shit get in between me and my man. Oh yeah, my man. He just needed to hurry up and cut this crap.  
I huffed, annoyed at the damn cough and thought about how I had to clean the sink too.Otherwise I wouldn't feel at ease. "Oi Erwin..." I sighed before slapping my hand hard on his back. Oh well, at least that would help him to get rid of that fucking gross mucus right?  
Erwin made a loud retching noise and coughed one last time. We both stared petrified at the sink in absolute silence for a few seconds. "Erwin..." I stood frozen like someone had thrown at me a bucket full of ice. "That... that's blood..."

  


	5. And I can't believe this is for real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

The mop hit the floor with a loud wet sound, sending water spraying everywhere when I dragged it repeatedly back and forth over a blotch of dried paint.  
The cloud of smoke that usually surrounded me was nothing compared to the thick fog of that day, a result of the many cigarettes I had smoked one after another. I probably should have stopped, as it would have made all the effort I was putting into cleaning that shithole absolutely useless. But I couldn't bring myself to do that.  
Needless to say, my brain was bursting with many different thoughts. Maybe I'd have felt better if there was a way to open your skull and let all the shit that clogged it to just flow out. But that was not an option and all that was left for me to do was smoke, smoke, smoke. Fuck premature aging and bronchitis. I could quit whenever I wanted. Oh how often I had repeated this crap in the past.  
Without noticing it, I had scrubbed the entire classroom clean. I wheeled the cart that held all of my cleaning supplies out of the classroom, took off my gloves, and tossed them in the trash bin. With my hands smelling of latex, I made my way to the vending machines at the end of the hallway, hoping to find some comfort in much needed coffee.   
It had been a bit more than a week since the whole Erwin incident at my house. He had assured me that he was all right, that he had just bit his tongue and that was where all the blood came from. But when I had forcefully opened his mouth with my fingers and held out his tongue to inspect it, I had found no bite marks. Not even on his inner cheeks. I had punched him on the shoulder, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with him. But he'd averted his eyes and uttered a quiet "nothing," and after that he'd kept silent while helping me to get rid of the mess in the sink.   
He still hadn't said anything when he put his jacket on and got ready to leave. He stood awkwardly on the doorstep and bent down to kiss the corner of my mouth. He had probably expected me to kiss him back, but fuck if I did. I had crossed my arms over my chest and pointed at the door with my chin. If he wanted to leave he should just hurry up and get lost, and let me boil in anger on my own. He had looked at me with sad, resigned eyes and a tiny hint of understanding before he turned and disappeared down the stairs.  
That kiss hadn't changed anything between us, or so I'd thought. I didn't try to contact him in the following days even if a small, hidden part of my heart kept telling me to do so. But the feeling of always being second-best and not being worthy enough to know what the hell was going on overpowered the desire to see him. And I felt used too. Yeah, you got that right. I know, I know, I've always said that I'd never wanted anything more than for Erwin to use me for his sexual pleasure. But now that it looked like he was doing just that, I felt hurt. Why would he kiss me like that and then just up and leave? Without telling me what the fuck was wrong with him?  
I couldn't tell what was more frustrating... being kept in the dark about everything, the feeling of being used, or the fact that he hadn't gone all the way. If he wanted me to be his fuck buddy, well, he could at least do things properly for fuck's sake.  
But really, I felt anxious more than anything. All this petty whining of "oh noes, he used me but didn't fuck me" was just the tip of the iceberg that was my busy, worried mind.  
And then, I thought, what if he'd regretted what we had done? What if he had a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend, since he hadn't seemed all that bothered with his tongue down my throat. I had watched him closely when he'd made me lunch. He knew his way around the kitchen. Perhaps he lived alone? Or maybe he was just a really good boyfriend and liked to spoil his lover.  
That's how I'd spent the first couple of days after he'd left my house: speculating wildly on his motives, spurred by the incessant worry that plagued me.   
And when anxiety got the best of me I gave in and tried to call Erwin on his phone. It hadn't even rang once; the dull recorded voice of a lady had informed me that "the number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later." This had happened every time I'd tried contacting him.   
Fuming, I had tried reaching him through his office. As soon as I heard the receiver being picked up on the other line, I'd spat an angry "what the hell, Erwin?" It turns out it hadn't been Erwin. It was his secretary Nanaba, who told me that Erwin was not in at the moment. I asked to talk to Mike, but she (or he? Nanaba sounded and looked so androgynous that I couldn't tell, and asking seemed rude. Yes, even to me) yet again told me that he wasn't available. I tried asking for Mike's personal number but Nanaba refused to give it to me. In that moment, I had realized for the first time that it was actually not a common thing for social workers to give their personal numbers to their clients. This little detail had lifted my spirits a little bit.   
And now, here I was after this hell of a week, standing in front of the vending machine and waiting for the cup to be filled with the coffee I had paid for.    
I was finished with work for the day. Later in the afternoon I had to meet with Zakarius, who would do the usual monthly checkup in Erwin's place, like he had told me a couple of weeks before. So I had asked my boss to have my shift rescheduled for that day. I usually worked late in the afternoon well after the brats had fled the school, so I usually had nothing to do with them. But with my shift being moved to the middle of the day, it was absolutely impossible to not see them swarming the hallways like a flock of filthy cows scattering their shit everywhere. Imagine how happy that made me.  
Anyway, I didn't really have the energy to yell at them. My mind was occupied with other things, burning with the need to know. I slowly made my way to the computer room, passing by the big sign saying "NO FOOD OR DRINKS IN THE COMPUTER ROOM" with my coffee in hand. Yeah, right. The classroom was full with kids busy with some kind of post-class project on digital art (brilliant. The school had money to waste on those kinds of expensive toys, graphic tablets and whatnot, but didn't give two shits about removing the damn graffiti or doing something about the flooded toilets on the third floor). To my horror, I noticed that the brats sitting in the room where the nitwits from classroom 10, ward 4.   
All the computers were already taken but that wasn't really a problem. Some of them had earphones in and were listening to music to get inspiration while they worked on some crap. Others were scribbling, probably writing an essay on what they had been working on. They all seemed lost in their own little world. Especially Reiner, who was busy drawing a butt with Nicholas Cage's face on it.  
… artists.  
Now, the trick to getting a seat was spotting the brat who was the slacker in the room, threatening to rat him or her out to the teacher, and proceeding to sit on the chair that they had warmed up with their ass. A piece of cake for me, and I was feared by the whole student body for being silent as a cat. The teacher was not in the classroom either (probably making some photocopies or something along those lines), so I could enjoy scaring the shit out of my favorite ball of anger (aka, Jaeger). I had already spotted him, that big idiot; he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was pleasantly dicking around on one of those sites popular among brats like him, tumblr or something like that. Even from where I stood, I could see some deformed human figures with giant glittering eyes and stringy hair on the brightly lit screen… those mangos or however the fuck they were called.  
I quietly crept up behind the pea-brained little snot. His stepsister was seated two seats from him, fervently concentrated on her drawing, while Armin sat hunched over his notebook writing at a frenzied pace. Neither of them noticed me at all. Nor did Jaeger, who was completely enraptured by what he saw on the screen, scrolling up and down, like the poor retard that he was.  
I stopped a few centimeters behind him and paused to look at what he was doing. I felt horrified when he clicked on a little heart symbol and it grew bigger, flying up on the screen before disappearing. What the fuck was that shit?  
Silently, I bent down until my mouth was right next to his left ear, and an unpleasant whiff hit my nostrils. His hair reeked of sweat and dirt and I had to try really hard not to puke. They probably had had PE as their first lesson that morning.   
"Aren't you a bit too old to still be watching cartoons.. Jaeger."  
I spoke quietly in my usual drawl but the brat jumped in his seat and twisted with a jerk, almost falling from his chair. I heard Connie cackling a couple of seats behind and Jean making a noise that resembled a neigh more than anything. Even Reiner sniggered, eyes never leaving the ass he was oh-so-lovingly drawing.  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mikasa's murderous glare but I pointedly ignored her.   
"S-sir!" squeaked Jaeger. He had the typical cracking voice of every teenaged boy his age. One moment he sounded like an ogre from the mountains, and the next like a five year old girl. "It's not what you think, sir!"  
"Out of the way, Jaeger." I pointed my chin the other way, signaling he had to get up. "I need to borrow this thing."  
I loomed even closer to him, trying to make myself appear more menacing than usual. This was one of the few occasions when I felt taller than the person in front of me. I wondered how Erwin felt, always looking at people from above. These pests were terrible and got on my nerves, but dealing with them was like a piece of cake compared to the mess that was my life.   
"B-but sir, I was actually doing this project for school, sir.."  
"Jaeger. Are you fucking kidding me?"  
"No si-"  
"You think I'm an idiot? That I was born yesterday?"  
"No sir, no."  
"Then get that sorry ass of yours up and get lost."  
By now, the entire class had stopped what they were doing to watch the little show. As soon as Eren got up I plopped on his chair with a quick "thank you" muttered under my breath. I wasn't that big of an ungrateful shit, after all. Except to Erwin. But with him, the situation was a bit more complicated than getting up and giving away a seat. And though it might not look like it, I didn't particularly enjoy scarring those kids for life.   
Eren answered with a quiet and surprised "you're welcome," and scurried to sit next to his sister at her desk. I cracked my knuckles, joints popping with a faint sound, and opened a new tab. I did actually own a personal computer but I had no internet connection back at home. I used it to listen to music, play video games, and watch a movie if I felt like renting one. That's it. A wifi connection was a luxury that I couldn't afford. When I needed to browse the net I usually dropped by Gunter's internet cafe.   
I went on Google’s homepage and typed "dry hair", "fatigue", "labored breath" and "coughing up blood" into the search bar, pressed enter, and waited for the results with bated breath.   
I briefly scanned the first few links. Autoimmune diseases, sarcoidosis, pneumonia, arterial hypertension, multiple sclerosis.. and then homeopathic remedies, self-diagnosis, and allergies. I went on reading for the first ten pages. Among all the different names of diseases (most of which I couldn't even pronounce) there was one in particular that kept reappearing again and again. I felt myself break in a cold sweat and I held my head with clammy hands, one of them coming up to nervously rub my temple.   
"Hi there!!"  
Brow furrowing in annoyance at the high pitched voice, I slowly turned around and came face to face with the four-eyed science teacher Hanji Zoe. She was a tall woman with auburn hair and a strong nose, renown for her enthusiasm and her bad habit of shouting instead of talking.   
"Watcha looking up, Levi?"  
Ah yeah, I forgot to mention she was way too chummy for her own good. She put her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward, her cheek coming to rest against mine, and looked at the computer's screen with a big idiotic smile (I knew it was there even if I couldn't see it).  
"Oh my, this doesn't look good. Are you feeling ill?"  
I shrugged, trying to shake her hands off and hoping that she'd get the hint and leave me alone. "No," was my flat reply.  
"Ah! Thank God. You know, I wouldn't be too surprised if you were indeed showing any of these symptoms." She chuclked and sat next to me before snatching the cup of coffee I had left on the desk. She took a large sip. "You smoke too much! It's bad for your lungs, dear."  
My coffee. Fucking bitch!  
"That coffee was mine." I said in a low murmur, in contrast to her loud chirping.   
Hanji looked at the cup and then back at me, and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh gosh Levi, I'm sorry! Come, I'll buy you another one."  
Well, it looked like I didn't have much choice. But.. "Excuse me, what about the brats?"  
"They can look after themselves! Right guys?"  
A loud chorus of "yes" echoed from a mass of hotheaded students that wanted nothing more in the world than to not have teachers around.   
"If they spill blood on the floor I'm not going to clean up." I muttered, following the woman out of the classroom. She was still drinking from my cup.   
"Don't be so gloomy, Levi!"  
"I'm not. I'm being realistic, professor."  
She laughed. It kind of irked me but I was getting used to it. "Oh come on, don't call me 'professor.' Do I look that old to you? I’ve been a teacher for less than two years!"  
"What should I call you?"  
"First of all don't be so formal, we should be about the same age! And call me Hanji."  
"Professor Hanji."  
"No!" She shook her head, downed the last of the coffee, and threw the cup in the trash bin near the vending machine. Good, at least she wasn't a messy idiot. God knows how much this trait made me more agreeable towards people (only slightly, though). "Just Hanji!"  
"Hanji."  
She beamed at me and patted my cheek, turning away to insert a few coins in the machine and missed the horrified expression on my face.  
"That's right!"  
"Don't touch me."  
Her only reply was to give me a few more pats and hand me the cup of freshly poured coffee.   
"I'm sorry, Levi. It's just that you're such a cute, angry little man."  
"Little man."  
"You're so short!"  
"Han-"  
"Anyway, who's sick?" she abruptly changed the topic, crouching on her knees to retrieve the bottle of water she had purchased for herself.   
"What's it matter to you.. Hanji?"  
"Oh, come on. I see the afternoon school janitor looking up all that bad stuff on the internet. What am I supposed to think?"  
"Nothing, perhaps." I said, blowing on my coffee.  
"Or everything."  
"But why do you care that much?"  
Hanji sighed and opened the bottle. She suddenly looked sad and deep down I felt a pang of guilt for putting a frown on her usually cheerful face. "A friend of mine is very sick."  
"I'm sorry."   
I averted my eyes and took a sip from my cup. I hadn't been completely honest, though. After all I didn't know her friend and I couldn't feel that sorry for someone whose face I had never seen in my life. Don't think I'm a cold-hearted bastard. Pretty much every human being is the same. I didn't feel particularly sad but it wasn't like I was happy about it either.   
"Yeah, me too."  
She put the cap back on her bottle, a forlorn look on her face. "They found a cancerous mass of 7 cm in his left lung."  
I tried to conjure the image in my head looking at my right hand and comparing it to the size of the tumor, holding it before my eyes. "Well, that's some shit your friend's got there."  
"Yes! But luckily they caught it at a good stage."  
"Yeah?"  
I didn't know the first thing about tumors. The knowledge I possessed came from a couple of movies I had watched in the past, where the main character spent a lot of time in the hospital and lost all his hair.   
"And it actually was a really fortunate case. My friend had gone to the sports doctor to have a check-up because he wanted to participate to a marathon two months ago."  
I vaguely remembered that Erwin had said something about wanting to run in that marathon and that he had indeed participated. I didn't think that a man with a 7 cm tumor in his lung could possibly run a marathon so I felt the tiniest bit of relief. "And?"  
"Well, his doctor had noticed that he had some difficulties breathing while he ran on the treadmill. And he had never had problems like that before."  
"Is he a sports lover?"  
"Well, yeah. He's a very dynamic and fit person. The doctor ordered a CAT scan to see if it was some heart-related issue." Hanji's frown deepened. "If only that had been the case!"  
"Right. How is he now?"  
I didn't know why I was asking her all those questions. Maybe it was my subconscious need to feel reassured.   
"He's doing chemo," she nodded. "A cycle every 21 days. Luckily the tumor hadn't spread to the lymph nodes yet. The doctors are trying to reduce the mass before proceeding with the surgery to remove the infected lobe."  
Suddenly it was like I could smell the irony tang of blood, the plastic smell of syringes and the antiseptic scent of sterilized surgery tools, and I shivered. I finished the last of my coffee and threw out the cup.  
"It doesn't sound too bad though..?" I carefully asked her, moving back to my cart and putting on a new pair of latex gloves. Doing that while talking about hospitals and surgeries made me feel a bit anxious. It was a reminder of how weak the human body is.  
"I think so. He's still working and living his life. He actually had another cycle of chemo today. He has a 70% rate of surviving."  
"Well, that's pretty good then."  
It was a poor attempt at comforting her, but it was the best that I could offer. I looked away and busied myself with drowning the mop in the bucket of water. If I had hurt her she didn't show it. She scratched the back of her neck and shrugged with a defeated sigh.  
"You know, it's that other 30% that scares me."  
Hanji left before I could say anything. Poor thing, I felt sorry for her. The possibility of losing a friend in such a dreadful way had to be goddamn awful. We'd been there, me and Auruo. If I'd been a true gentleman, I would have tried to console her in some way. But I wasn't the right person for that kinda thing. Comforting people was not my forte.  
At that point I wanted to go home more than anything. So as soon as my shift ended, I hopped on my bike, feeling light and heavy at the same time. On the way back home I indulged myself with a couple more cigarettes, feeling no shame in doing that. I tried not to think too much about what Hanji had told me but it all kept echoing in my head. Part of it actually made me feel relieved. Erwin was fine, he had to be. So I had decided to follow Petra's philosophy and concentrated on this, pushing away all other fleeting thoughts in my head.   
   
I expected Mike's visit in half an hour but to my surprise he rang the doorbell a lot earlier than anticipated. I hurried to open the door as soon as I heard the bell. Why? The little "waiting game" was something I reserved only for Erwin; I didn't know Mike well enough and I didn't feel like getting too familiar with him (Erwin had earned this privilege with a lot of effort and a few punches from me) even though I could see he was a reassuringly big and robust man, who did his job just as well as Erwin did. He was a bit looser than him though. I thought of Mike as Erwin's perpetually relaxed brother, and often pictured him wandering happily and high as fuck through a field of marijuana plants.  
"Good evening!" He greeted me with a smile plastered on his face and sniffed the air as he came through the door. He had the ability to understand if a house was well-kept and occupied by respectable people with a simple whiff. Mike shrugged off his jacket and looked around the room. "Where can I put this?"  
I answered his greeting with a nod and pointed at the coat rack hidden behind the door. His presence felt kinda intimidating; I'm not talking about the fact that Mike was basically a human Babel tower and made me feel like a fucking shrimp (even Erwin looked small next to him). I didn't know how to act around Mike. Having him in my house felt weird. I used to see him when I was in rehab and he came to visit me with Erwin. Even now, we met mostly at the office. He had accompanied Erwin on a few visits, but we'd never met alone.   
"Do you mind if we sit at the kitchen table, Levi? Thank you."   
He waited for my approval before sitting down. I thought he looked ridiculous when he tried to awkwardly fold his freakishly long arms and legs to fit in the chair and wrestled with his black satchel to take out my files.  
I stared at him the whole time, snapping out of my reverie to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and the ashtray. I placed it on the table between me and Mike and slid in the chair opposite his as he kept shuffling his papers with a sombre expression. The silence in the room was making me uncomfortable. Where the hell was the Mike who was all jokes and fun?  
"Mike."  
"Mh?"  
At the sound of his name he looked up and I offered him the opened pack of cigarettes. The few times we had met in the past we had always smoked like fiends. He looked at the cigarettes sticking out of the small carton box like it was something from outer space, and his lips (and mustache) curled in distaste.   
"I quitted."   
His tone was noncommittal as he went back to arranging the papers on the table top. What the fuck..? I felt overwhelmed by the sudden urge to kick him out of my house. What the fuck had gotten into everyone for fuck's sake? Had Erwin's "I-got-a-stick-up-my-ass" virus spread to everyone?  
"You too."  
"Me too what?"  
Mike was leafing through receipts and the balance sheet for the past month. He had tried to sound casual but his tone betrayed the tiniest hint of interest.   
I shrugged. "Erwin has quit too."  
"Ah. Well Levi, you've done pretty well this month."  
"Mike. Don't ignore me."  
His expression seemed tired and slightly annoyed when he looked at me.  
"What are you talking about, Levi?"  
"I mentioned Erwin and you suddenly changed topic." I took a nervous, long drag.  
"Levi, I don't think this is appropriate. I'm here on his account but I'm not Erwin."  
"Fuck, I know you're not him."   
My voice shook with anger. I closed my eyes and tried to pull myself together. I didn't want to bare myself like that in front of people who weren't Erwin. "I know that. But you all avoid me like the plague when I try to bring this up. I've been trying to call Erwin for a whole fucking week but he won't answer me. I try the office and they tell me he's not available."  
"Why are you so worried?” He actually chuckled. And all I could think about was that he had none of Erwin's charm when he did so. "I know how to do my job."  
"Who gives a fuck about your job, Mike." I flicked my cigarette too hard and I had to light it again, swearing under my breath. "Erwin was here last week and he coughed blood. Do you hear me? He fucking coughed blood. What the fuck's wrong with him?"  
I felt myself start to panic little by little. I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to shout in everyone's face. I wanted to see Erwin, to touch him, to know that he was alright. That he breathed well again, that he was ready to make love to me. Shit. I didn't want to just fuck anymore. I started to have these cheesy as hell flashes of us together and it was too late to go back and pretend that I didn't feel anything. Mind you, I was far from admitting anything. But at the same time I was so close to putting a word to all of this and I couldn't hold back anymore. I already said it. I don't ask questions. I just go with the flow. But it looked like the flow wanted to take Erwin away from me.  
"Mike!" I rose from my chair and leaned in the other man's space, but he didn't even flinch and just kept a distant and kinda absent look on his face. I blew a cloud of smoke at him, holding his gaze unwaveringly. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that he's fine. Tell me that Erwin Smith, your colleague and friend, is fucking fine and say it looking in my eyes"  
"Erwin has cancer."  
The end.  
That was all.  
I felt myself crumbling to pieces.  
Completely destroyed.  
They really were trying to take Erwin away from me. Someone one day had decided to gift me with this man. This man who had all the traits of a Machiavellian leader, but still managed to be as good as a saint. I had almost believed it, believed that this beautiful present was for me and that I could keep him forever. But then the asshole that had given him to me in the first place had decided to take him back, shaking their head and telling me that it was just a loan. Fuck it. Fuck life, that whore clad in lace and flashy make-up, who opened her legs to flaunt her pretty cunt, only to close them as soon as you got your head close to it to crush your head in between. What a fucking load of shit. Fuck.  
It's so true that you finally realize just how much you care for someone when you're a breath away from losing them. And I should have been used to it by now. I had seen so many people die for one reason or another. Auruo and me had survived - he had a face full of wrinkles to remind him what he'd been so close to, and I had round sunken eyes - but we were a rare exception. But in the end, our time would have to come too, just like it would for the baker, the school principal, Ymir's mom, Mike, Petra.. but for some reason, I would have never thought it would happen to Erwin as well.  
I stared at Mike with a blank expression, mouth open like a gaping fish and slowly slid back in my seat. I don't know how long it took me to sit. I looked at Mike and noticed that he looked nervous. His eyes followed my hand as I smashed the cigarette in the ashtray and fuck, I would have loved to smash the tray with my hand, to see the blood flow from an open wound, and to feel the pain. Anything would have been better than the nothingness I felt now. I felt like I had been completely emptied of feeling. I had just one thought on my mind: I wanted to see Erwin.  
Mike waited patiently for me to calm down and didn't utter a word. I couldn't even feel grateful for the lack of pointless words. My eyes wandered over the table's top, lingering on the bumps on the plywood. For a moment I lost myself. I kept silent for a long time. Saying anything would have been completely useless in that moment, as this kind of thing didn't need to be commented on.   
I'd love to say that I finally mustered up the courage to speak to Mike, but it was like my mouth moved on its own accord and I didn't even notice I was speaking until it closed again. "I want to see Erwin."  
Pieces fell into place... Erwin and Mike both quitting smoking, what Hanji had told me about chemotherapy and Erwin still working even if he felt sick. Everything finally made sense.  
"Today's not possible. He's at the hospital for his treatment."  
"I want to see him."    
Mike sighed and covered my hand with his. It was nothing like the way Erwin did it. It was a gesture void of any intimacy. But I understood anyway why Erwin trusted Mike so much; he was such a comforting presence and I felt like I could have started crying at any moment.   
"Listen to me, Levi. We’ll settle this bureaucratic stuff here and then I'll help you meet him."  
His hazel eyes shone with honesty, even more than Erwin's, but they were distant. He had hardened himself, just like Erwin, to keep himself together.   
I nodded. The only thing that came out of my mouth was a murmured "thank you."


	6. So stay with me tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

I hopped off my bike in front of a white fence gate running alongside a string of completely identical-looking pristine condos, which overlooked a wide tree-lined avenue. Everything here looked so clean and immaculate. I felt I was in one of those Sims' game cities. In short, the whole area resembled a golden cage for the upper middle class, the perfect neighborhood to raise the perfect family. It was far away from the pollution from the factories and the squalid communal gardens that were littered with empty syringes. Over here, kids could grow up all happily and carefree, free to run about like screeching banshees. A real nightmare.   
   
The majority of the people that lived in those homes pissed me off. Maybe you've already guessed as much by now, but that shithead Erwin Smith lived right there, of course. It was all too easy to picture him coming out of that dark, polished wooden front door at eight in the morning, looking all dapper and heavenly even at that ungodly hour, his reflection fleetingly caught by the shiny golden plate on top of the doorbell. I could practically see him walking briskly down the paved path, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket absentmindedly, and opening the fence's gate with a light touch of his hand, before disappearing behind the row of condos to retrieve his car (I couldn't see them from where I was, but there was sure to be a bunch of garages back there with shiny, expensive cars).  
I stood there in front of the fence like an idiot, fiddling with my phone and waiting for some divine sign to invite me in. I heard the cheerful chirping of a bird hidden somewhere in the condo’s small garden and I awkwardly shifted my weight from one leg to the other. There was a buzzing sound and the gate opened automatically. I let myself in. I parked my bike on the rack, together with the condo’s other residents. But unlike them I made sure to lock it safely with a chain and then walked slowly to the front door that was left ajar. The anger I felt didn't show and I looked perfectly composed. My hands weren't shaking and I wasn't pissing myself either. With hard eyes and my jaw set, I walked with resolution towards my destination.   
I couldn't even bring myself to envy Erwin, for fuck's sake. The condo’s stairs shone and reflected light like a damn mirror; my reflection was so clear that I could have used it to shave. Everything, every single thing, smelled clean. Every flat's door was simple but elegant; pots of either fake or living plants adorned each landing, and the more I ascended, the more I regretted not taking the lift. Deep down I sort of enjoyed the cleanliness on this place. But at the same time, I also hated it. Jesus Christ. I hated it the way a fat ass on a diet hates pepperoni pizza.  
My heart was pounding so loud and fast, it almost hurt. I was half way up the last flight of stairs when I noticed that a door was half-opened. I almost felt my legs give in. I had hurried to Erwin in such a frenzy, that I would have looked fucking ridiculous if I'd fallen from the stairs right then and there.  
   
Well, now. Erwin's place. I'd lost count of how many times I'd tried to picture how it would have looked like in my head. Was it big? Luxuriously furnished? Cheap looking? Full of lame, kitschy knick-knacks? And most importantly, was it clean? Erwin seemed like the kind of person who would have one of those hideous calendars they give you as a free gift at supermarkets hung up in his kitchen, a fruit bowl display, and shitty modern art prints in his living room. Oh, and Nicholas Sparks' latest book on his nightstand.   
Erwin Smith was just like this in my head, after all; a mismatched mosaic of pictures, fantasies, sensations, and scents. My idea of Erwin was an ensemble of vague and fleeting fragments. As much as I tried, I couldn't fully grasp any of them, like he was from the moon. I tried to catch and cherish the little details whenever I could. A new cologne, ink stains on his fingertips. I could tell if he'd had plenty of time to get ready in the morning by the way he'd combed his hair and by how evident the small wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were. I could tell from the spark in his blue eyes if he'd drunk enough coffee. If he'd had a proper breakfast, croissant and latte and everything, he'd offer a smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder. Finding about those little quirks of his thrilled me, even though I tried not to be too obvious about it. But Erwin was neither blind nor stupid, and sometimes he'd notice that he was showing it too much. He'd then raise his eyebrows and look at me with indecipherable eyes, trying to conceal the friendly gestures with an embarrassed scratch of his cheek.  
I inhaled deeply and slowly, standing in front of the slightly opened mahogany door. I rubbed the soles of my boots on the doormat and knocked softly twice before letting myself in.  
The fresh smell of green tea scented cleaning agents hit my nostrils, and I was welcomed by the faint notes of a Cranberry song coming from somewhere inside the home. My reflection greeted me as soon as I stepped in the entrance hall, where a full body mirror was placed right next to the coat rack. And fuck, did I look out of place in that neat and sophisticated room with my oversized red hoodie, black skinny jeans, worn out boots, sunken eyes, and disheveled hair from the mad rush I had made to Erwin's place. I looked like a burglar who had just successfully sneaked into a house. I didn't look presentable, let alone any way attractive. Well, it's not as if I gave two shits anyway.  
"Ah, Mike, please come in. I'll be right there."  
At the sound of Erwin's voice, I stiffened. It had only been two weeks since I'd last heard from him but it had felt so much longer. His voice had such a soothing effect on me, it swept away all the weariness of the past days, and with a shaky breath of relief, I realized that I'd never been so grateful to Erwin for the mere fact that Erwin was alive.   
I closed the door quietly behind me and kept my mouth shut. Erwin thought that his visitor was Mike. Mike had thought up this plan, the only one according to him that would have let me successfully meet with Erwin.   
Usually, when Mike visited Erwin, he'd just text Erwin to let him know that he had arrived and the Erwin would open the door to his flat. So when I'd reached the condo earlier, I'd sent Mike a message and my partner in crime had done the same with Erwin, something along the lines of "I'm here, open the door."  
I stalled in the hallway for a while, looking around and trying to flatten my hair with my hands to at least make myself look decent. From where I was I could take a peek at the airy and clean kitchen. There were plain looking counters littered with colorful, different sized jars filled with pasta and coffee and sugar. The living room was on my left, though I couldn't discern much of what was in there since the curtains were all tightly drawn, casting the whole space in semi-darkness.   
I took a few steps towards the door to the living room. It wasn't really how I'd imagined it. But then again, just how I had thought Erwin's place would look like?  
The furniture, from the round table to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, looked kind of old at first glance. But they were in good condition, not worn down by time and moths. There was no trace of any lame modern art prints, and the few specks of dust here and there didn't bother me too much. Erwin was sick after all, so the overall level of cleanliness was acceptable. Framed pictures placed on yellowed doilies weren't missing though. Yes. At least I got this right, I thought myself and smirked, moving closer to the photos and squinting to take a better look at the people in them. Just between the photos of a man and a woman was Erwin's framed university degree. As predicted, the asshole had graduated with the highest mark, but without distinction. Oh, what a shocker, Mr Smith.   
Dolores o' Riordan's gorgeous voice obscured the muffled sounds of whatever Erwin was doing on the other side of the dark hallway. Frankly, I didn't feel like going to him. I'd much rather let him find me in his living room and enjoy the shocked expression on his usual oh so stoic face.   
I felt more relaxed by then. I leaned against the table's edge and faced the other way from the door, arms above my head and my back arching like a cat’s as I stretched.   
"Ouch!"   
I heard a faint thump that was soon followed by a pained groan. Erwin must have stubbed his toe somewhere. Moving away from the table silently, I hid beside the cabinet lined with photographs, just on the left side of the door. As the sound of Erwin's steps grew louder, I lost more and more confidence.   
His illness was the first thing anyone would have noticed, its ugly claws robbing his face of his usual fresh and jovial look. I could see him coming from the hallway in the dimly lit living room. He was dressed in white and gray, in exhaustion and fatigue, looking very much like a ghost. Erwin was the first person with cancer that I had ever met in my life, and believe me when I say that I'm not keen on meeting another one. The last time I'd seen him weeks before he'd seemed fine, all in all. But now he was just back from a full cycle of chemo, and had yet to recover. He looked broken, like he could barely stand on his legs. It was heart-wrenching to see him like that, but still I didn't cry. I came out of my hiding spot and approached him from behind, grabbing the hem of his white polo in my fist (a polo, Erwin? Really? What the fuck were you thinking?). From the way he reacted you'd think I had actually pulled his dick instead of his shirt.   
Erwin started and whipped his head around. His eyes fell on me with a puzzled look, but as the realization of just who was in front of him hit him, his gaze turned cold. He looked so outraged at having been betrayed like that by his friend.  
"Levi!"  
He probably wanted to ask me what I was doing there, but I didn't give him the time to finish his sentence. I stepped on my tiptoes and I draped an arm around his tense shoulders.  
"Erwin."  
"I don't-"  
"Just, just shut up okay? Please. Sit down."  
He kept looking at me, with an irritated and kind of lost expression on his tired face. The mask he usually wore was crumbling down and with every piece that fell, his true self slowly emerged.  
Conflicted between the urge to punch him and to treasure this rare moment of vulnerability he was showing me, I pushed him to the couch, and he went down without protest like he was some kind of rag doll. Ugh, I wanted to vomit. I could even toss him around like a freaking puppet now.  
I sat next to him, hands hidden tucked between my thighs, and put my head on his shoulder, shifting slowly until my head rested against his heart. The rhythmic, quiet sound of his heartbeat reassured me sweetly, and I subconsciously balled my hands tightly. We were alive. Maybe not in our best shape, maybe a bit patched up, but alive.   
Erwin smelled like white musk and aftershave. Only he could so easily pull off a mix of such different scents. Well, to me it still smelled like a slightly unpleasant cacophony of smells, but it was Erwin's cacophony of smells and that was enough to make me like it. If it had been someone else, I would have probably kept my distance from them. And it would have made me question that person's sense of smell.   
With his heart beating in my ear and his smell all around me, my head had started feeling foggy. But it was okay, I didn't want to think about anything else that wasn't Erwin, motionless and tired and close to me. Fuck it if he didn't even raise a finger, didn't hug me or any shit like that. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout my anger and frustration, I wanted to yell and swear at him. But I didn't. I just bit my lower lip and kept my hands trapped between my thighs, sealed shut like a virgin right before their first time.   
All the things I wanted to tell him. Christ. Where does one even begin when they have to talk to someone that has cancer? Maybe I should have told him that I was sorry. Ask about his illness, and wish him a fast recovery. But all those clichéd things seemed like bullshit, especially in our situation. I didn’t even really want to ask a single question that you’d usually ask a sick person. And why would I, after all? Of course I felt fucking sorry for him, of course I wanted him to get better soon. And fuck, I'll admit that I’m usually a tactless idiot but even I wasn't so indelicate as to openly ask, mouth foaming, for details about his illness.   
My instinct had told me to beat him to a pulp and at the same time to stay by his side, to "cuddle" with him as they say. And that was why I looked so calm. I was caught in limbo, uncertain of what to do, trying to think of something to say.   
"You know, Mike has pulled quite a few pranks on me in the past. But this is something I didn't think he would actually do."  
Erwin's voice was flat, and despite what he'd just said he didn't sound surprised in the slightest. I raised my head to look at him, but he didn't meet my eyes and kept his gaze fixed on the black screen of the TV. I pulled back, but was still close enough to feel the heat coming from Erwin's body, my legs crossed and arms folded over my chest. "Does this look like a joke to you?"  
Erwin closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh.   
"Well, it's not exactly a surprise either."  
"What is it, then?"  
He glared at me. "An intrusion."  
I gave him an unimpressed look with a raised eyebrow, before sighing and falling back against the couch.   
"Call the police if you want. You know you're gonna make someone happy."  
"Who?"  
"Nile," I teased him. I thought it was a given.   
His serious expression faltered, and he made a soft “ahh” sound, probably thinking that it had been silly of him to not think about such an obvious answer.   
"I didn't give you permission to come in."  
"You didn't tell me to get out either, Erwin."  
I had caught him off guard yet again. It had been happening too often lately, and the initial thrill and satisfaction I had felt the first few times I had successfully shut him up had faded by now.   
Erwin shook his head. He looked irritated, like he was dealing with some kind of petulant, stubborn child. Well, my height wasn't that different from a kid's, I guess.  
He got to his feet slowly with an exasperated sigh.   
"Would you like some tea?" He asked, in a resigned and still kind of annoyed tone, and without waiting for my reply he headed to the kitchen.  
I followed him soon after, like his shadow. "Yes, please."  
I felt weird. I didn't really know what to think of the turn the situation had taken. The fact that Erwin's mood could change like that, just like any other human being, seemed unreal to me. Erwin was always collected, calm, kind, and occasionally even smiling gently. He was always wholeheartedly dedicated to his job, and all of this had led me to believe that he wasn't like any other person. To me, he had always been on a whole different level than other people, somehow better than all other humans. And now, seeing him react like anyone else would have at having someone show up at their home uninvited, it had stunned me to silence. I couldn't exactly tell if what I felt was a bad or good kind of surprise. I still thought that chilling a bit would have done him good. But for the first time, I found myself wondering whether I would have liked Erwin's true self, usually hidden under his calm, professional demeanor. Wondering whether he'd go back to being just a fuck interest and nothing more, like he'd been for so many years.   
I plopped on a chair at the kitchen table and shoved a hand in my hoodie's pocket while Erwin rummaged through the cupboards and filled the kettle with water. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and my lighter, but as I slipped one between my lips I stopped abruptly and swore under my breath. I couldn't do that in his home. I had to resist, for Erwin's sake. Even if the temptation was great and I could be a bit of a spoiled ass sometimes. I put the pack back in my pocket, and stroked it longingly with a lingering finger. The bittersweet thought that, however small, I had done something good for Erwin was my only consolation.  
Erwin turned to face me and lightly shook the sugar bowl in his hand. I lifted two fingers in answer. We were always like that, we didn't talk much. There were so many things left unsaid between us.   
I sat in complete silence, my gaze flickering between Erwin, the cups on the counter, the sugar bowl, the table, Erwin's ass. I wasn't fidgeting or feeling antsy or anything like that. I was stuck, not unlike the way an old computer with a slow internet connection freezes on the porn tab just when your colleague decides to burst into your office without knocking. My head felt overloaded and I was in desperate need to blow off some steam.   
"Here you go."  
Erwin took the chair on the other side of the table, and offered me a cup full of steaming tea. I usually never took my tea with sugar, to be honest. But since I was in his home and that seemed to annoy him, I had decided to make my presence there as bothersome as possible and act like a parasite.  
"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked him, slowly stirring my tea. It was like the sound of Erwin's voice and the slight touch of my foot against his shin had helped me clear my head and choose which question to ask him first.  
The fucker had probably thought of the answer for such a question beforehand, if the way he squared his shoulder was any indication. He wasn't dumb, he knew he wouldn't be able to hide his condition forever, that it would show on the outside sooner or later and questions like that would start raining down on him.   
"There was no need for you to worry."  
I tried to keep my cool, and took a sip from the cup as if he hadn't spoken at all. Maybe Erwin had expected some kind of reaction, but nothing happened. What he'd said had shocked me quite a bit and I felt kind of numb. Did he think I would have thrown myself at his feet, crying and pulling my hair out? Yelling at him that no, it was something to worry about, that his illness could take him away at any moment without so much as an excuse? That he could disappear from my life and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it?   
Why was I even still in his home, stubbornly refusing to leave? It was clear as day that Erwin didn't want me there, that he was trying his damnedest to make me go. But I wouldn't let him win this game. If he wanted me to leave, then he'd have to haul me to the door and kick me out because I had every intention to make myself at home for the night.   
Neither of us spoke for a while, and we just kept on drinking our tea in silence. I had pretty much finished my cup when Erwin spoke again.  
"You don't need to worry now either."             
I looked up at him, head cocked to the side. "Oh, really?"  
Erwin didn't answer at first. He finished his tea, set the cup neatly on the table next to the spoon, and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. Right, Erwin. Take it easy. We have all the time in the world after all.   
"I'm fine."  
"You look like shit."  
"Well, I know I look kind of worse for wear"  
Oh, again with the fancy words, Erwin..  
"But I'm fine."  
"Why didn't you go to work today, then?"  
I tried to sound as casual as possible. At the same time, I grabbed both cups from the table and stood up to bring them to the sink.   
"Because I wasn't feeling g- …mh."  
"What? I didn't catch that," I said in my usual flat voice, scrubbing the cups vigorously. Did he think I was born the day before? That I was an idiot he could easily fool?   
"I didn't go to work because I don't feel good."  
It didn't make me feel particularly guilty, making him admit it. I had finally reached my goal after all. Erwin was free to deny his condition all he wanted but the truth spoke for itself. He really looked like a ghost, it wasn't funny.    
"I bet Mike's super pissed," I said airily, and put the wet cup and spoons on the dish rack. Erwin had been watching me throughout my efforts without saying a single word, as if having me in his kitchen doing the dishes was the most natural thing in the world. Just half an hour ago, he'd been screaming "intrusion!!" and was about to call the police. Well, fuck him. Erwin needed rest to get better. I was no doctor, I knew shit about medicine (except for the basic first aid things), so I couldn't do anything to cure him. But I had arms and legs, and I could support him. And I had every intention to do so, as long as I could stay in his home, even if it was for a few hours or all night long.    
"Mike's been getting mad at me quite often lately."  
Without saying a word, I slid in the seat next to his instead of going back on the other side of the table. Erwin was absentmindedly twirling the stalk of one of the apples in the fruit bowl.    
"He's angry because he thinks I'm not taking enough care of myself."  
"Well, at least there's someone who still has a functioning brain I see."  
Erwin looked away. Trying to solve the puzzle that was Erwin Smith was giving me an awful headache, goddammit.   
"Just leave it, Levi."  
"Whatever. It's not like I'm the one who's got cancer."  
At that he turned back to me, with an expression I had never seen on his face before. His eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, his jaw set and slightly trembling. I had never seen, or even imagined for that matter, Erwin Smith on the verge of tears. It shattered that small, withered excuse I had for a heart to pieces. I just stood there looking at him like a fucking idiot, completely petrified and unable to say anything, to tell him that I was sorry. But why should I have said that anyway? He was sick, really sick, and he just went on like it was nothing, pretending everything was fine, acting like he was perfectly fine. I almost wished his condition would worsen. Perhaps then he'd begin to take it more seriously.  
"I'm so tired," he said in a barely audible murmur.   
"I know. You've admitted this, Erwin, it's already something."  
"I can't take it anymore, and this is just the beginning.."   
It was too much, too suddenly. Erwin hid his face behind shaking hands. I remembered seeing those hands balled tightly, the blue of his veins under his pale skin, when he punched me years ago. He had hurt me, but not as much as it had hurt seeing his hands weak and white as a sheet now as he shielded himself from exhaustion and shame.   
I'm emotionally constipated, or maybe I'm just really awkward and bad at expressing myself and comforting people. Especially comforting people- no one was there to do it for me when I needed it, so I didn't know the first thing about it. And what could possibly be comforting for Erwin now, anyway? I looked around helplessly, a storm of emotions raging inside, but a calm facade on the outside.  
His admission had upset me more than seeing him weakened and changed by the illness. He was crumbling to pieces, to small pieces that were scattering everywhere. I was just one of his social work clients, one that he had accidentally kissed and that now was in his home, unable to help him put himself back together. I felt useless. I was a useless parasite in his life.   
"Erwin, if you want I can go now.."  
Even though it was a bit muffled because of the hands still pressed against his face, Erwin's voice sounded calm and collected despite everything. "No Levi. Stay with me." His eyes peeked between his fingers. The redness around his eyes made the clear blue color of his irises stand out even more. "Stay with me tonight. Please?"  
I averted my eyes and stood to grab a tissue from the kitchen counter, which I then offered to him. "Are you even fucking asking?" I sighed and leaned against the back of his chair, while Erwin blew his nose quietly, his shoulders still again after his fit.       
"Thank you.."  
"Yeah, well, no shit."  
I took the used tissue from his hands and threw it out. From "I'm calling the police" to "stay with me tonight." To be brutally honest, I knew we would come to this in the end. It couldn't have gone any differently. We were like two lost souls, gravitating towards each other. I had no intention of letting him go so easily, I thought, while looking at him as he tried to recompose himself and comb his blond hair back.   
"I don't know what we could eat for dinner."  
Gosh, that made me feel so relieved and pissed at the same time.  
"I'm not hungry," I told him. If I'd tried eating, I would probably throw it all up. I still felt shaken.       
"Me neither, actually."  
"I didn't have any doubts.."  
He cracked a small smile and made a small gesture with his hand, as if to say 'let's drop this.' I couldn’t read his mind- thank God, I didn't want to- but I could still appreciate the effort he must have had to put into smiling. Despite this, I didn't reciprocate, and did nothing but stubbornly stare out of the kitchen's window, arms crossed over my chest.   
"I want to take a bath. Where's your bathroom?"  
Erwin didn't seem too disappointed that I hadn't smiled back at him. Maybe he was content with only giving me one himself. Well, anyway. Thank you, Erwin.   
"At the end of the hallway, the door after the living room."  
"Good."  
I trudged to his bathroom, walking through the hallway and past the living room, which was still dark as a vampire's crypt. Surprisingly, Erwin's bathroom was big, bright, and most important of all, very clean. My mum would have said that I had found the ideal boyfriend, custom-made for me. But my mum wasn't around anymore and Erwin wasn't my boyfriend either.   
In one corner there was a wide bathtub, and just beside it was a small walk-in shower. The toilet had a wooden seat, and right above the sink there was a big mirror. Hung behind the door was a cloth caddy with many pockets where Erwin had placed his comb, brush, razors, hairbands, shower cap, and other toiletries. I liked how neat his bathroom looked. Taking a good, long bath would surely help me relax a bit. It wasn't enough to distract me completely, though. I couldn't stop thinking about him, him and his fucking illness. I had fully given in to Erwin Smith by now. I could have screamed and kicked all I wanted, but he would have never left my head. I wanted to hold him, and to be held by him. But I refused to make the first move, as if the kiss we'd shared hadn't done anything to move things forward, as if the news of his condition had only served to make me bitterer. I wouldn't have said no to another kiss, though. On the contrary, I wished Erwin would just get on with it already.   
I turned on the faucet and let the tub get filled with hot water. Steam rose in puffs above the surface. I stripped and left my clothes neatly folded on top of the closed toilet seat; small rituals like that already made me feel more at ease.  
I went through the drawers and cabinets looking for a new sponge. Cotton wool, band-aids, disinfectant, condoms.. oh, there were the sponges, buried behind a pile of towels. I had no intention of using the one that was already on the tub. For all I knew, Erwin had scrubbed his ass with that or something.     
As I poured white musk bubble bath in the water, Erwin knocked on the bathroom's door. What a polite man.  
"Levi?"  
"What?"  
"Can I come in for a moment?"  
I was standing stark naked in front of the tub, back to the door, arms stretched above my head. "Sure."  
"Listen, I just wanted to tell you that-"  
He stopped abruptly in the doorway in mid speech. Though I couldn't see him from my position, I could just imagine the flabbergasted expression he must have been showing and I reveled in it. It was like a ray of sunshine in that shitty, gray day. I got annoyed with his prolonged silence, so I decided to ignore his presence and bent to take the drain stopper's chain out of the way, but it slipped from my fingers and fell in the water.  
"…that the string comes loose."     
I sighed and kneeled on the cold tiles of the bathroom's floor, groping blindly in the soapy water to find and retrieve the small string. I was really enjoying Erwin's stunned silence, after all. It probably would have meant nothing to me if it was anyone else, but it was Erwin Smith. The fact that I had rendered him speechless was more than enough. I turned around to look at him at last, and I had to bite my lips to not smile smugly. He was blushing slightly and looking at me with clumsily concealed interest. It wasn't a leer, it was more like he was studying me and that pleased me a lot. He wasn't acting like an old pervert.  
"Well, how about you tell me sooner next time," was my flat reply, as I sat on the edge of the tub.  
"I had never noticed that tattoo. It runs down your whole back."  
I looked over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the tattoo in question. It was a full back design of three roses that started between my shoulders, just under the neck. From the sides stretched two thorny branches that curled around my shoulder blades. What Erwin had missed to see before was a third branch that was in the middle of the other two and ran down to my loins, where it ended with a hook. It was my all-time favorite, and I didn't give a shit that the needle had hurt like hell on the thin skin covering the spine. I had a few other tattoos, a golden dragon holding a pocket watch on top of blue clouds on one arm, and a Japanese war flag with a skull instead of the red sun on the other.  
"It's cool," I conceded in a feigned bored tone, and slid into the hot water. Erwin was still standing just outside of the bathroom, looking at me.   
"You have a cat?"  
He started at the sound of my voice but tried to act nonchalant, the son of a bitch.   
"Yes, but now he's sleeping on the porch. Why do you ask?"  
"The bathroom rugs, the ones with those.. frills" I pointed at them with my chin. "They're completely frayed. Looks like the work of claws."  
Erwin smiled again. It felt so good to see him loosen up at last, my dear social worker. At least when we were talking about the cat.   
"I know. But he likes it, what can I do?"  
"Dunno." I shrugged and scrubbed at my arms with the sponge. "Buy him a scratching post or something perhaps. And stop staring at me from the door."  
Erwin's eyes widened and he hastily left the room, shutting the door behind him.    
I didn't feel offended or anything. He had reacted just as I'd hoped he would, showing the embarrassment he'd tried so desperately to hide since he'd stepped in the bathroom. I almost thought he was cute, with that show of shyness and modesty, that he could so charming and always collected (at least in my eyes) but ran away from something like that. My head had always been a messy place, but Erwin's was sure to be a bloody complicated mayhem, and I had no hope to get to the bottom of it. But maybe it was better that way.   
I threw my head back in the warm water and sighed. I liked Erwin Smith. I liked him a lot.  
 


	7. And please me, oh, please me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

I surfaced from the water and took a long, deep breath. Holding my breath underwater had felt absolutely liberating. My mind was clear and I felt better all of a sudden, even though my nose burned from the soapy water that had entered through my nostrils. I rubbed the tip of my nose as I stretched over the tub’s side to rummage through my hoodie’s pockets. There was just one thing missing to make this moment perfect. After a few seconds I found what I was looking for. I took a cigarette from the pack, put it between my lips and lit it.  
   
I had been feeling the need to take a smoke ever since I’d set foot in Erwin’s house. More precisely, from the moment we’d moved to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea. I felt loads better now.  I was ready for spending the night at his place, and I didn’t care that much for what would happen next. I would have been content with pretty much anything. Whether we’d end up sprawled on the couch watching cooking programmes on TV or whether we’d just go to bed together wouldn’t have made that much of a difference to me.  And I had an inkling that it was the same for Erwin too. I was pretty sure he felt the same longing need to be physically together, just as much as I did.

Still, I took my sweet time in the bathroom. I washed more than once, and I had to fill the tub again after I’d flicked off the cigarette in the water. Bathing with ashes floating around me wasn’t really my thing, and I didn’t want to smell like smoke either.  
I washed my hair with Erwin’s coconut and orchid scented shampoo. For fuck’s sake Erwin, coconut? Great, I smelled like a pretty lady now. It wasn’t _that_ bad though. Everything was so wonderfully clean and smelled so good.

I leaned against the side of the tub and closed my eyes. I left the conditioner on for a few minutes, curious to see if my hair would really become soft and silky thanks to those products that I had never bothered to buy (something I was actually considering doing).  
Those things seemed to do nothing for Erwin’s hair though, now that the chemo’s side effects began to show. His hair was drier and thinner than I remembered. I shuddered at the thought and got back to scrubbing my arms with the sponge until they turned pink, willing away the image of Erwin’s receding hair from where it had stuck in my head.  
   
I had been soaking in the water for so long, the only reason why I didn’t look like an old prune yet was because I had come out of the tub every now and then to sit on the windowsill and take a smoke. I finally came out of the water (for good this time) and put on Erwin’s freakishly huge bathrobe. If me and Petra had worn it together, we still would have been able to dance comfortably in it. I felt like I had wrapped myself in a big as hell circus tent. I had to roll up the sleeves a shit ton of times before they reached my elbows. But it felt kind of comforting too. Safe.  
   
Trying to lift the hairdryer above my head while clad in that enormous thing soon proved to be a quite difficult task. I decided to shrug the robe off, and that meant that I had to stare at my stark naked reflection in the huge mirror above the sink. What the fuck had Erwin even seen in me? With my arms raised above the head I could see my ribs sticking out, pale skin stretched over taught muscles and a body too narrow to be found conventionally attractive.  
   
I came out of the bathroom still clad in Erwin’s robe, my hair shiny and soft as it has never been in my (short) life. Hell, that stuff really did work. It made me feel like one of those handsome dudes from hair product commercials when in actuality, I was just an ugly ass.  
   
I had probably spent almost two hours or so shut in Erwin’s bathroom, because when I got out it had already darkened outside. I found Erwin sitting on the couch with the cat on his lap, a freshly made cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other (not Sparks, thank God). The cat was a common black cat. A bit on the small side though, but it didn’t look like a kitten. It sat all curled up on Erwin’s legs, but I could still tell that it was fit and its fur looked soft and shiny. Erwin surely took good care of it.  
As soon as it heard me coming through the living room door, the cat raised its head to look at me with curious, bright yellow eyes. It soon got distracted by Erwin’s hand coming to scratch behind its ears though and purred happily with its eyes closed, affectionately nuzzling its owner’s hand.  
   
“Are you done?”

“Still need to wax.” I answered flatly, standing in front of Erwin and his cat. “Where do you keep your pajamas, Erwin?”

He didn’t even flinch at my blunt request to wear his clothes.

“Go to the bedroom, you’ll find a chest on your right. In the top drawer there are pajamas, in the second underwear and tank tops, and in the third drawer you’ll find socks. The bedroom’s door is on the left, just after the bathroom.”

I nodded and then headed to the bedroom. I couldn’t stand being in his robe for a second longer, I felt like one of those damn dwarves from Snow White.

Erwin’s room was beautiful. Well, to my eyes it was. Mine looked like a cross between a room in a psychiatric hospital and a military barrack, plain and sparse. Erwin’s bedroom was decorated with refined mahogany furniture. Two big paintings of different landscapes hung on the walls, probably drawn by some street artists (even to an uncultivated person like me, they still looked ten thousand times better than that shitty modern art). In the centre of the room was a king sized bed that looked like it was the softest, most comfortable thing I could ever hope to sit my sorry ass on. On the wall next to it was a wide glass door that led to a closed balcony, where I could see many different potted plants and flowers and a tall music stand. I wondered which instrument Erwin played. A wind bullshitone (yeah, bullshitone, not even a saxophone) probably, if you took into consideration all the crap he usually pulled.

I put on a black pair of Erwin’s boxers that looked more like shorts when worn by me, and a white undershirt. It was too big for me, and one of the straps kept falling off my shoulder despite all my attempts to pull it up again and make it stay in place. I looked like one of those famished, miserable African kids you see on the pamphlets that volunteers hand you in the streets, trying to tap you for money that ends up God knows where.  
I took the robe back to the bathroom and found a pair of flip-flops to wear that was way too big for me. Just as I was making my way back to the living room I bumped into Erwin, who standing in the bedroom’s doorway. He was holding the black cat in his arms. The small pet had one of its paws resting gently on Erwin’s chest, and it looked at me warily, as if daring me to go near the two of them.  
   
“Are you going to bed already, Erwin?”

 

“I just want to rest for a little while.”

“So you’re gonna sleep?”

He closed his eyes and chuckled, shaking his head gently. “No, I just want to lie down for a bit.”

He took a step towards the bedroom but stopped all of a sudden and turned back to look at me. I held his gaze, my face as emotionless as ever. I was waiting for him to take the first step because I was tired of taking the lead and doing everything on my own. Granted, it was pretty childish and hypocritical of me since he’d been the one to kiss me first, and ask me to spend the night at his place as well.

“Are you coming?” He asked quietly, almost sweetly.

I nodded wordlessly and followed him into the room. The cat leaped gracefully from Erwin’s arms and landed in the middle of the bed where it curled up, its gaze fixed on me as I lifted the covers and burrowed under the clean white sheets. Erwin followed me soon after, and as he stretched his arm to turn off the light on the nightstand next to me, I caught a whiff of his smell. The shower gel’s scent had faded but I could still smell the aftershave, and that, together with having his body so close to mine, made my stomach churn yet again.  
   
“You sleep in your polo, Erwin?” I asked him, looking at him from under his outstretched body.  
   
“You’re right” he conceded. He lifted the covers and hopped off the bed, and I felt the tiniest tinge of regret for making him notice that he was still dressed. As soon as he had got out of bed, I felt a pang in my chest. I wished that he would hurry up and come back to me.  
   
The cat had started playing with my toes from its spot on top of the covers but as much as I loved cats, I didn’t pay it any attention. My focus was on something else entirely. I was looking at Erwin getting changed. And I was enjoying the view. The illness hadn’t impacted his physique too much yet, all in all. Now free of the polo, I could see that the muscles on Erwin’s back were still well defined, and the mirror on top of the drawer reflected a sculpted chest as well. You could tell from the strong muscles of his thighs that Erwin used to be a regular jogger. And from his ass too. Well, not like I needed to see him in underwear to notice that, since it already pretty much screamed “look at me!” even from under his pants.  
Another thing I had noticed while watching him getting undressed in the room, which was silent save for the cat purring softly at the foot of the bed, was that Erwin’s skin was white and smooth and he had little to no hair. Like the perfect German stereotype, he was blond and the little hair he did have on his forearms and calves were pretty fair too. I breathed in relief. Body hair (except for pubic hair) had always kind of grossed me out, and I was glad to see that Erwin was pretty much hairless.  
   
I kept looking at him as he put on a pair of white shorts and a navy top while stretched on my side with the black cat that had slowly crept up the bed and was now snuggled behind my back. As soon as Erwin joined me in bed again, I scooted closer to him. I had missed him to death those past couple of weeks. And now after catching a glimpse of his bare skin, I had been left itching to touch him and feel his warmth.

Erwin made the first move this time as well, though. We had been exchanging silent looks in the mirror on top of the drawer while he was changing clothes. There was no need for words between us, and I didn’t really want him to say anything anyway. I just wanted to have him by my side. That was enough for me.  
   
He ran his fingers through my hair and cupped the back of my head, and I put my hands on his chest. I couldn’t stop staring at him, taking in all of him. I broke eye contact only to look at my hands splayed on his breast, or his strong arms and shoulders.  
   
We kissed. Without hesitation, without the need to make sure that it was okay first. We had leaned in at the same time and our mouths had met halfway. It had happened so naturally, it felt just like breathing. As I kissed him, I slowly got angrier and angrier at him. For not telling me shit about his illness, and for the way I was letting myself go so willingly with him as well. I had pretty much melted in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, with his hands lovingly stroking my face.  
   
I broke the kiss to take a deep shuddering breath and then I latched my mouth onto his again, kissing him angrily. Erwin didn’t hesitate at all to give me back everything I was giving him. He clenched my shirt in his closed fists just like I was tugging at his.  
   
I ran my hands up his back and gripped his broad shoulders. Our kisses turned gentler as Erwin slowed down to set his own pace, and I reminded myself to be more careful and not overdo it. Now was not the moment. He rested his hand on my stomach and slowly slid it up to my chest.  
   
When Erwin broke the kiss I was already feeling dizzy and pretty much disconnected from everything. Gosh, was it hard to refrain myself for his sake. Erwin fell back on his side and pressed his lips sweetly to mine once again. And with that, my arms lifted to loosely wrap around his neck. I felt so elated, and as much as I tried to fight it back, I felt the excitement slowly building up under the touch of his hands. I had never been so turned on by a mere touch before but fuck, those weren’t the hands of just some fuck buddy or anything like that. This was Erwin fucking Smith. His fingertips ghosted tenderly over my skin at first, but he was slowly becoming bolder.  
   
I wondered, why? Why was all of this happening now, so fast – by his standards at least? Deep within my heart I already knew the answer of course, but I didn’t want to think about that now. All of my worries were forgotten as soon as Erwin’s hand tentatively passed the waistband of my boxers. I shivered, and bit on his bottom lip. With a quiet sigh I completely yielded myself to him.  
   
‘Please,’ I desperately wanted to breathe, but I kept my mouth shut and just looked at him intently, losing myself in his blue eyes. ‘God, please,’ the words were just on the tip of my tongue but I held them back. I would have just ruined the moment and looked like a fucking idiot. Just as our unspoken rules stated, I didn’t break the silence.  
   
I swallowed and parted my legs, trying to make myself comfortable on his bed as Erwin’s hand closed around my half-erection. His head rested on my shoulder, and I could feel his warm breath on the side of my neck as I stroked his hair. Everything was so damn vanilla and plain but I loved it. I loved it so much. I felt myself get closer and closer to the edge, and I couldn’t think straight anymore. I whimpered against Erwin’s mouth.  
   
“Erwin.. the sheets..” I mumbled, eyes closed and head thrown back on the pillow. “Move them.”  
   
The heat had become unbearable, and I didn’t want to dirty them either. Soon I felt the chill air of the room pleasantly hit the exposed skin of my chest and lower abdomen. The only warmth now came from Erwin’s hands between my legs, and his thigh pressed firmly into mine.  
   
Erwin kissed and nipped my neck, his hand moving slightly faster around me. The pressure was perfect, the steady pace alternated by light squeezes at the base and thumb rubbing over the tip. I hadn’t actually doubted that he’d be good at it – hell, he had a dick too after all. I gripped his neck tighter, soft moans escaping my mouth, head rolling from side to side. Everything was so languid, intimate and, I don’t know, _secret._ Entirely ours. Erwin wasn’t asking anything back from me, just like usual. His mouth was near my ear, and I could hear him slightly panting. The speed of his hand increased. I felt myself growing restless, but at the same time I felt more and more like I was his. Erwin was still kissing my shoulder, my mouth, my neck. His lips moved lower to my chest, his tongue swiping over my nipples. I felt so helpless and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I just kept mewling and gasping in pure bliss, arms around his shoulders.  
   
“Faster,” I whispered. I opened my eyes and looked down at Erwin’s fist wrapped around my erection. He followed my instructions and picked up the pace, and I let out a hoarse groan in response. “Come on.”  
   
My hips thrust upwards to meet Erwin’s hand, and I felt heat engulf me completely and pool between my legs. With my eyes closed, toes curled, jaw and belly clenched, I threw my head back. I surrendered wholly to him and his touch as the orgasm shook my body. It felt like the most satisfying orgasm in my life. After that I just lay languidly on the bed next to Erwin, his breathing slow and steady. I tensed up for a moment, but I forced myself to relax and enjoy the feeling of fulfillment that Erwin had given me.  
   
 _Erwin, Erwin, Erwin_. It was the only thought on my mind. I was so absorbed by it that I didn’t even feel bothered by my pathetic whining, or grossed out by the semen drying on my stomach. And it was all because of him. I blinked slowly and turned my head to look at him. He still had that tired look on his face but, you know, he looked less tense than before. More peaceful. His blue eyes shone like he was pleased with himself, a satisfied expression that I was probably mirroring. I felt the corners of my mouth tug up in a tentative smile, and I internally cringed, thinking of the sorry view I was offering him.  
   
Erwin put his hands on my waist and, with a slight huff, pulled me on top of him. I wanted, needed to kiss him again. I searched his mouth with mine and when we kissed I felt a warm feeling spreading through my chest. I loved his warm breath, his full lips, I loved everything about that asshole, goddammit.  
   
When the kiss ended and I slid off him, I looked at him and thought ‘again, let’s do it again. Let’s spend the whole night this way.’ I wanted to be touched by him and touch him in return. The softness of the cool sheets reminded me of the fact that I was still dirty though. Erwin promptly took a kleenex and wiped my belly with the most tender, albeit a bit weary, expression. I felt a shiver run down my spine. He knew every part of me. He had seen me shouting, yelling angrily at the world, losing control, and finding peace again. He had seen me build walls around me and push everyone away. He had seen me crying and throwing fists. And now he had seen me falling completely for him.  
   
I had opened up to him, maybe too much. He had seen me at my worst, and I had shown him sides of myself that I didn’t even know I possessed. I had smiled for him (if that aborted smile could be called that) and I had given up a whole afternoon worth of cigarettes for him. We had stopped playing hide and seek for a while now, but I hadn’t noticed yet. I had still tried to close myself off and hold everything inside, but it was like trying to hide behind a glass wall. There was no way Erwin couldn’t see right through me.  
   
All of a sudden I felt deeply embarrassed and I tried to cover my face with my arms like a kid, but Erwin pried them away with honest gentleness. He helped me put my clothes back on and tucked me in, bringing the covers up to my chin. He held me in his arms and stroked my hair lovingly. I felt the last of the barriers I had built around me crumbling to pieces, and I held onto him with all of my strength, fingers digging in his back. The way his solid, warm body pressed against mine kept the shivers away, as well as the fear that he was going to disappear just like that, and walk out of my life just as easily as he had walked in.  
   
His hands settled at the small of my back, and he murmured a quiet “Good night, Levi,” against my forehead.  
   
“’Night,” I mumbled in response, tightening my hold on his back.  
   
I waited, still as a statue and tried to breathe as quietly as possible, for Erwin to fall asleep before loosening up and adjusting my position at his side. With great relief I let my thoughts run free in my head, a thing I had stopped myself from doing while he was still awake. I had the silly, unfounded fear that he would have been able to hear them if he hadn’t been fast asleep. And I didn’t want him to know that I was fucking in love with him.  
 


	8. We need soothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

When I woke up it took me a few minutes to remember where I was. I felt strangely light-headed and peaceful, a strong feeling of security settled deep down in my chest.  
I opened my eyes, still heavy and bleary with sleep, and the first thing I saw was Erwin’s sleeping face. My hand wandered in the space between us until it found Erwin’s body between the sheets. I closed my eyes again and scooted closer to him. Erwin felt so solid and warm. Maybe too warm, considering that it was just mid-April. But I couldn’t bring myself to take the covers off him. It was the first time I felt the warmth of his skin on mine and I was so scared that it would be the last time as well. Deep down I knew it was an irrational fear, but in that moment I just couldn’t shake off the feeling.  
   
My thoughts went elsewhere when I cradled Erwin’s face in my hands. The stubble on his cheeks was barely noticeable, but it was still enough to piss me off. I was about to open my mouth and mumble at him to get his ass up and shave when his hand closed gently around mine, making my heart skip a beat once again. Fuck.  
   
His hands felt unnaturally warm, just like his face. I was a bit worried about this, but it was nothing compared to how scared I was of the cancer itself. I thought that perhaps it had something to do with his chemotherapy sessions. Erwin seemed to be reacting quite well to the treatments..At least, from what I could see.  
   
Erwin’s hand moved slowly up my arm and settled on my shoulder. I heard the sheets rustling as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position and lay on his side. I opened my eyes at last to look at him.  
   
His eyes were still closed but he was definitely awake. The shutters on his windows were half opened, and the warm light from the sun filtered through them, hitting us on the bed and making it difficult for me to keep my eyes open. The brightness in the room wasn’t harsh, and revealed what the feeble light of the lamp of the night before had masked.  
   
It was painfully clear that Erwin was sick. His lips were chapped, his skin was pasty white and thin. I could see the blue of his veins peeking out from under his skin here and there. Looking at him up close I could see that his eyebrows and hair had thinned out.  
   
Thinking about how weak Erwin looked made me feel sick. What a fucking marvellous way to greet the day. And for once, I woke up feeling happy to be alive. Shit..  
   
“Erwin, you need to shave..” I murmured. “And put on some damn chapstick.”  
   
He smiled with his cracked lips and buried his face deeper in the pillow, moving closer to me at the same time.  
   
“You’re right. I’ll do it later.”  
   
His voice was kind of raspy and still heavy with sleep, and though it was nothing like his usual deep, warm tone, it still sent shivers running down my spine.  
   
“What time is it?” I asked him, moving my legs until they found his. All of this felt so domestic and homey, and so damn good. It helped to quiet down the dreadful feeling that had settled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t much, but it was still something.  
   
All of a sudden, the room was filled with a loud, obnoxious repeating sound, like the howling of wind combined with the beeping of some kind of machine. I started and jumped, swearing profusely as Erwin laughed quietly at my side.  
   
“What the fuck is this?!” I asked him angrily, the sound increasing in intensity as the time went by.  
   
“It’s 9:30.” he replied calmly, turning the other way to retrieve his phone and turn off  the alarm.  
   
Fuck, I had slept a lot. That explained why my head felt so heavy and why I was still in such a daze. But what kind of alarm was that anyway? It sounded like the rasping, wheezing engine of a really old car. First, it was Erwin’s ringtone from the time of the War, and now this. What the hell, Erwin?  
   
“Yeah, okay. But what the fuck was _that_ sound?”  
   
“The T.A.R.D.I.S.”  
   
“The what?”  
   
“The T.A.R.D.I.S.”  
   
Erwin turned back to face me and wrapped his arms around me. I fought back a shiver.  
   
“Oh yeah, that’s totally clear now.”  
   
“Oh?” Erwin looked at me with an incredulous look in his eyes. “You don’t watch Doctor Who?”  
   
The name sounded familiar but I had no clue what he was talking about. After all, the television was more of a decorative object in my living room, really.  
   
“No.”  
   
“Well, T.A.R.D.I.S. stands for ‘Time and Relative Dimensions in Space’. It’s a kind of time machine that can travel through dimensions as well.”  
   
“And is it always so fucking noisy?”  
   
He ran his hands up my spine lovingly and I reciprocated the gesture. He could have been talking about how to make a cheese omelette for all I cared and I would have still drunk in his every word.. With my usual bored expression of someone who would have preferred to be everywhere else in the world but there, of course.  
   
“When it lands, yes. But that’s because the doctor is a bit of a wuss.”  
   
I bit my lip. Hearing Erwin say this kind of thing was the most stupid and hilarious thing that had ever happened to me.  
   
“And he’s kind of a loner, you know. Well, more like he’s _alone_ , since the Time Lords have all been killed by him himself during The Last Great Time War. The T.A.R.D.I.S. was designed to be maneuvered by six people, actually.”  
   
I looked at him in utter confusion and silence for a few seconds, brow furrowed and brain trying to furiously digest the information. That shit really sounded like something Erwin would like, after all.  
   
“Wait, wait, wait. I’ve just woken up, Erwin. I haven’t smoked and drank my coffee yet. And taken a shit.”  
   
He pressed his chapped lips against mine in a quick kiss. It felt a bit rough but it was still so good. When he ended the kiss I closed my eyes and sighed quietly.  
   
“Sorry.”  
   
There was nothing he had to apologize for, and we both knew it. I just nodded at him and he offered me a small smile.  
   
“Do what you have to do. I’ll go take a shower meanwhile.”  
   
My stomach chose that exact moment to rumble loudly, and we both instinctively looked down. It had been some time since I had eaten anything, since the night before we had decided to skip dinner in favor of more “pleasurable activities.”  
   
“Ah, I see.” Erwin chuckled.  
   
I was hungry as hell, but I had no intention of eating anything until Erwin himself asked me to take food from his fridge. In that moment Erwin’s small black cat jumped on the bed, into my lap and begun meowing loudly, completely oblivious to the annoyed expression on my face.  
   
“How about you make yourself something in the kitchen, and feed this little fella here too?”  
   
He took the cat from my lap and held it in his arms. The pet purred softly and nuzzled his owner’s chest. I found the scene quite endearing.  
   
“Uh.. okay. What do I give it?”  
   
“There’s a can of cat food in the cupboard. Just fill the bowl.”  
   
“Are you sure it won’t end up eating the whole thing?”  
   
“No worries, Bobbo only eats when he’s hungry.” He paused, and looked at me with a knowing smile. “Just like you.”  
   
At first I got a bit offended at him pointing out my awful eating habits, but then my attention was caught by something else he had said.  
   
“… Bobbo?”  
   
“Bobbo.” He confirmed, planting a kiss on the cat’s head.  
   
“Well, between you and the cat..”  
   
“Mh?” he looked at me while the cat hopped out of his arms and walked to the door, meowing insistently.  
   
“I don’t know who has the shittiest name.”  
   
Erwin burst out laughing. His laugh was rich and warm and it felt contagious. I really liked it, even though I’m sure that I was looking at him with my usual emotionless face (now amplified by the effect of too much sleep from the night before), I actually felt really good. At ease, something I hadn’t felt in many years.  
   
I sighed and got up from the bed, and as I walked barefoot on the cold floor, whistling to make the cat follow me to the kitchen, I realized something. If I had been in another house, with someone that was not Erwin, with a pet that wasn’t Bobbo, I would have run to the bathroom to take a shower as soon as I had woken up. I would have never let my partner kiss me on the mouth, let alone touch me the way Erwin had done the night before, if I hadn’t made sure beforehand that he or she was absolutely clean.  
   
But Erwin was. I didn’t know everything about him, but I was sure of that; he was clean. No matter how many dirty people he had come into contact with in his job: junkies, alcoholics and worse, he had always got out pure and clean. And he had made them clean too. When I was with him I forgot about everything. I forgot about my shitty job, my obsessive need to save up in order to afford soap, detergents, and all kind of cleaning supplies.   
Ever since I had stopped taking drugs my life had got better in some aspects, and worsened in others. It had taken years for me to go to work and not feel the urge to run back home and wash away all the dirt from people and the things I had touched. If I hadn’t met Erwin I would have never been able to overcome my fears. He had done so much for me, and I really owed him.  
   
As I opened the can and put the food into Bobbo’s bowl, I mused that I wouldn’t have minded waking up like that every day and trudging to the kitchen to prepare the food for the greedy black cat. Now that he had food, he was happily rubbing himself up against my ankles.  My stomach rumbled again and groaned painfully. I opened the fridge to take a look at what was in there. I had every intention to prepare a goddamn proper breakfast, like I hadn’t done in years. I wanted to do it for both of us.  
   
I put a knob of butter in a small frying pan, and as it sizzled quietly I was hit by a wave of guilt. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, considering Erwin’s condition and the downsides of chemotherapy. But I shook the thought off, and went back to scrambling eggs and putting the strips of bacon in the pan. I wanted to do things right for him. He had never asked anything of me apart from me being in peace with myself. I wondered if I would ever be able to tell him “thank you.” Perhaps. Who knows. Meanwhile I’d settle for cooking for him every day, and fill his cat’s belly. Once again I found myself picturing our mornings together, with me preparing breakfast in the kitchen and Erwin putting on his tie, looking at himself in the hallway’s mirror. I forced myself to stop thinking about those kinds of scenarios. Dammit. I didn’t belong in that house, after all.  
   
But I didn’t dwell on this thought for too long. Erwin came up behind me in that same moment and wrapped his arms around my waist, and with a quiet sigh I rested my head against his chest. I could smell the scent of the soap and the face cream on his skin. He kissed the side of my neck and took the spatula from my hand to flip the bacon sizzling in the pan. Swaying slightly on his feet, he hummed softly, rocking me in his arms. I thought, God, if you gotta kill me do it now. I would have died in utter bliss, no complaints, with happiness still tingling in every fiber of my body. I sighed once again.  
   
“Levi.”  
   
Fuck, his voice. His voice in my ear, calling my name.  
   
“Mh?”  
   
“I’ll have just milk and biscuits.”  
   
“No coffee?”  
   
“No, thank you.”  
   
“Where’s the moka pot?”  
   
“Don’t worry about that.” He turned off the stove. “I’ll take care of that. Relax.”  
   
“You sure?”  
   
“I’m sure.” He leaned down to give me a kiss on the cheek, and I grabbed his arm. I turned around to look at him in a way that demanded a proper kiss.  
   
This time his lips were soft, and they tasted like chapstick and mint. Jesus, he had even brushed his teeth before breakfast just to kiss me. I felt myself falling more and more in love with him but I would have let a truck hit me before I’d admit it to Erwin. So I just hugged him tighter and kissed him harder. He had even shaved, for heaven’s sake.  
   
Erwin pressed his lips against mine once more before he broke the kiss. He filled a plate with the bacon and eggs that I had cooked and handed it to me. I took a seat at the kitchen table. Bobbo was still eating his food happily in his corner, taking his sweet time without a care in the world. All of this felt so good. We almost looked like one of those old married couples that have endured a lot of shit and stuck together through all of it, finally finding some peace after the storm. And that wasn’t so far from the truth, actually. I mean, the ‘physical’ aspect of our relationship was still relatively new, but we really had gone through a lot of stuff together. My heart plummeted at the thought that the worst was yet to come.  
   
I felt like asking him the questions I had kept to myself until that moment. The spur of confidence probably came from the satisfaction of having the best goddamn breakfast in the past five years or so. That had put me in a good mood.  
   
“Erwin?”  
   
“Mh?”  
   
He was leaning against the kitchen’s counter, hand on his hip as he waited for the coffee to brew. Its rich smell was already slowly filling the air.  
   
“Aren’t you perhaps overstepping the boundary a bit? You know, blurring the lines between professional and private?”  
   
His laugh sent a shiver running down my spine. Holy shit.  
   
“You say that like I’m doing something reproachful.”  
   
“Well, it’s not like you’ve done anything more than being casually friendly for the past few years, so that’s the way you’ve made it look.” I answered with my mouth full of fried eggs, manners be damned.  
   
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I’ll admit I’ve set quite a few restraints in the past.”  
   
“Yeah, you’ve set them and then forgot about them.”  
   
Erwin laughed, bashfully, while pouring the freshly made coffee in a cup. “Well, I haven’t kept up strictly professional behaviour, yes.”  
   
“Indeed.” I went back to stuffing my face with bacon. “You weren’t really _professional_.”  
   
He was facing away from me so I had no way to see the expression that was on that shitface of his in that moment.  
   
“Is that a bad thing?” He asked that nonchalantly, taking a seat in front of me on the other side of the table and offering me the cup of coffee.  
   
The night before, Erwin had looked tense and tired. Seeing him now joking like that was good for the soul. It made me feel like I had done something good and useful for once in my life.  
   
“Nah.” I took a sip of the black coffee. It was bitter as hell.  
   
“Good.” He nodded with a small smile, dipping a biscuits in his cup of milk. “I was hoping that wasn’t a problem.”  
   
I put down my cup and looked at him incredulously. Was he fucking with me? He’d finally taken the stick out of his ass and let himself come closer to me, and now he was asking _me_ if I had a problem with that? Really? As if I hadn’t spent the past few years miserably pining after him, lost in my sexual fantasies, with nothing but my right hand as a consolation? My expression got annoyed and the fucker smirked at that. Time for pay back.  
   
“I’ve jerked off to you for years.”  
   
Erwin almost choked on his biscuit. He coughed, looked at me wide-eyed and with the worst blush I’d ever seen on his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he looked so cute with his big blue eyes and pink cheeks, his eyebrows raised high and mouth agape. I patted myself on the back for the good job. The bit of cookie still in his fingers slipped and fell in the cup with a ‘ploff’.  
   
The sound seemed to bring him back to reality. He lowered his gaze and tried to gain back some composure. “Well, that was something I wasn’t expecting.” Wait, did he sound _pleased_? Bastard.  
   
“You really didn’t see a goddamn thing, didn’t you?”  
   
Something about the way he looked at me made me think that maybe, maybe it had been partly my fault too. With my short temper and my habit of pushing everyone away, I probably didn’t give the feeling of being the most approachable and accommodating person in the world. I really wasn’t, after all. And I’ll probably never be.  
   
“Whatever.” I tried to brush off the embarrassing conversation, before an equally unsightly blush mirroring Erwin’s colored my face. Or even worse, my ears too. “What about your illness?” Straight to the point.  
   
“I’m going on with the therapy.” Erwin didn’t beat around the bush either. Maybe we were finally starting to be more open about ourselves.  
   
“And how’s it going? And for God’s sake Erwin, no lies or half-truths this time.”I leaned against the table next to him. Erwin was still sitting down, so I was taller than him then.  
   
He didn’t look away. Rather, he made sure I was looking at him too. “I’m getting surgery in a month.”  
   
I felt relieved at the prospect of Erwin getting better, but thinking of hospitals, surgical instruments, and blood made me slightly nauseous.  
   
“And how are they gonna do that? They’ll open you up like a turkey or something?” As I said that I desperately tried not to think of Erwin cut open or I would have ended up throwing up right then and there in his kitchen. “A seven and a half centimeter tumor, that’s a lot of shit you have there.”  
   
Erwin cocked his head to the side and looked at him with a confused expression.  
   
“Seven and a half? Who told you that?”  
   
“Hanji.”  
   
He shook his head with an amused chuckle.  
   
“I see, you’ve met her. Well, no, it’s not seven and a half centimeters. Yes, of course there was the risk of the tumor growing and reaching that size. But we caught it in time.”  
   
Oh. Ooh. Oh my God. I almost couldn’t believe the good news. I felt so relieved and elated, thank Jesus (just this time, though. I still had a few matters to settle with mister back-from-the-dead).  
   
“I think Hanji got so worried about this possibility that she made a mistake. I know her, she is a brilliant, passionate woman but she has the tendency to make things bigger than they really are.”  
   
“Yeah, okay. Back to business now. The therapy.”  
   
“Yes, right. When we first found the tumor it measured four centimetres. It was quite big, and my doctor said that it was not operable by endoscopy. So I had to do chemotherapy for a while to stop the tumor from spreading, and now its size has considerably decreased.”  
   
“How much?”  
   
“More than one centimetre and a half.”  
   
I felt like a big weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Relief rushed through my entire body and soothed my nerves.  
   
“Endoscopy?”  
   
“It’s a kind of a less invasive surgical intervention.”  
   
“So they won’t cut you open like a turkey?”  
   
“No, they won’t.”  
   
I looked at the ceiling with a sigh. I had felt so happy in that moment, I wanted to yell. Things were different now and they looked a lot better than before, even though the fear of losing him hadn’t completely vanished. It was like Erwin had been driving a convertible Ferrari without seatbelts on and now he’d switched to a steady, firm compact car, with a seatbelt and airbag and all of that. I mean, there was still the probability of getting into an accident, but it was a lot safer than before.  
   
Erwin must have sensed my relief at hearing the news, because he went on with his explanation, smiling reassuringly and stroking my thigh.  
   
“They will make three small incisions under the ribcage, and then they will remove the tumor with a laser. I’ll have to continue with chemotherapy for another six months or so, to prevent the formation of new tumors.” He paused. “And after that I’ll be cured.”  
   
I knew how Erwin felt in that moment, and what all this talk about recovery had meant to him. I got that, I went through something similar, after all. I covered his hand with mine and squeezed it lightly.  
   
“I’ll have to buy you a wig then.”  
   
“You mean, for the chemo?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“Well, I’ve talked about this with my doctor.” The more Erwin talked about his condition, the more relaxed he seemed to get. He’d probably been holding all of this in for so long, and he was glad to finally be able to tell me about it. And I was happy about that too.  
   
“Chemotherapy’s side effects don’t have the same impact on everyone. I have lost little to no hair. Look.” He bowed his head and moved his blond hair to the side. Just a bit above his nape, where his hair was just a short buzz, I could see a patch of exposed skin. I had only noticed his hair thinning on his temples so far.  
   
“Rather than that,” Erwin raised his head and let his hair fall back in place “both my hair and skin are getting dry. My lips are always chapped. I feel dehydrated and I’m frequently nauseous. I often feel feverish and I’m generally lacking in appetite.”  
   
“You don’t look like you’ve lost that much weight.”  
   
“I don’t have much body fat, but my muscles have lost their tone.”  
   
“It didn’t look like that last night.”  
   
“Trust me. I’m not as fit as I was before.”  
   
“If you say so..”  
   
My eyes wandered through the kitchen until they found the digital clock on the oven. We’d been talking for so long and now it was already eleven in the morning. I bolted upright.  
   
“Is something wrong?”  
   
“Gotta go to work.” I told him breathlessly, before running to the bathroom. I had no desire to leave him now, but I had to. Acting like a spoiled child was pointless. While taking a quick shower I realized that I didn’t even have a change of clothes with me. I’d need to borrow Erwin’s. I refused to go to work wearing the clothes from the day before, thank you very much. I even had to use Erwin’s toothbrush to brush my teeth.  
   
“Do you need anything?”  
   
Erwin was behind his bedroom’s door, where I had dashed to just after the shower in search of clothes.  
   
“No!” I grabbed the pair of boxers that looked smaller(and even then, I could have fit my two of my dick and butt in there) and a clean shirt. I didn’t mind wearing his clothes that much. Actually, I liked that. I even liked the scent of the fabric softener he used. I can’t explain why, I just liked that. I put on my pants and wore my combat boots before running to the kitchen to get my keys, cellphone, and cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of my hoodie.  
   
I met Erwin in the hallway. He probably hadn’t expected me to go so soon.  
   
“I have to go now, but I’ll be back.” I’d have to pick up my hoodie and underwear too.  
   
I really didn’t want to go. The idea of leaving Erwin and the safety and comfort of his house in favor of a place filled with noisy, rude, and smelly brats didn’t appeal to me at all. It made me feel nervous.  
   
“Have a good day.”  
   
Erwin didn’t comment on the theft of his shirt (and socks and boxers, though he didn’t know that), and he leaned down to kiss me. I squeezed the keys in my hand hard and fought back the instinct to wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.  
   
“Bye.”  
   
I stole a last glance at him before walking out the door. While I was walking down the stairs I felt an unpleasant feeling settling in my heart. I ran faster trying not to think about it, and to make it to work on time as well.  
   
I had left him so quickly, with barely enough time to say goodbye. Riding my bike in the crisp April morning air, I could still feel the pressure of his warm lips on mine. The ghost of his kiss didn’t vanish until I reached the school.  
   
   
 


	9. And I need to see you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my friend itsnoatpastime for the translation and pinnedonhope for the correction!

After leaving Erwin’s house, my work day started off quite well. Almost too well, to be honest. The noisy brats that swarmed the school’s hallways didn’t get on my nerves as they usually did. I even felt like I could put up with them nicely enough without wanting to shove a broom up their asses.

 

I felt peaceful, relaxed. Even though I hadn’t had the chance to take a smoke yet (or shit either. But using the school’s restrooms was absolutely not an option. I’d rather keep my asshole clenched tight until I could go back home), this feeling of contentedness had settled deep into my chest. Saying that it was all thanks to Erwin would have been a bit too simplistic and cheesy. It was more a series of things in which he played a large part, yes, but it wasn’t exclusively him per se. I felt like I finally had some kind of control over my life, like I was finally in charge of things and I felt optimistic (as optimistic as someone like me could be). Looking at the things happening around me, I finally felt like my life had a purpose, a goal, that I could finally be of some help to someone. I wasn’t just a janitor who did his job well anymore, or just another person leeching off social services. I finally had someone I could openly talk to, without fearing judgment of any sort. It’s not like Erwin was the only person I trusted. I had faith in my friends too, but it was a different kind of trust, one that didn’t come right from the heart. It wasn’t unconditional.

 

Shit, I felt nauseated at how sappy my thoughts were becoming. Thank fuck it was all in my head and no one could hear them.

Even cleaning out the art classroom on the second floor didn’t suck as much as it usually did. It was the room I hated the most. The chipped edges of plaster busts were scattered here and there, leaving dust and debris everywhere. The floor was covered in small bits of erasers, pencil leads, chalk, crushed charcoal bits, watercolours, and tempera stains. The room was used by different classes every day and no matter how hard I tried to keep it clean and tidy, it always ended up being a huge mess (and a huge pain in the ass for me). Whatever, complaining isn’t going to change anything. The sooner I started working, the sooner I could get it over with and get out of there.

 

I almost started whistling and humming when I put on my gloves and scraped away the stains on the desks. Jesus Christ, maybe I was in _too much_ of a good mood. Still, the good news that Erwin had delivered about his condition really lifted my spirits. And the thought of “being together” with him after thinking about it for so long just added to this. I mean, it’s not that I was the type to want the typical romantic relationship, mind you. I had never been desperate for someone to love me, I had never wanted a steady relationship and attachment and all that bullshit. I had always steered clear of those kinds of things. I had my share of fuck buddies and one night stands and that had been it, until I’d met Erwin. Well, at first it had been the same with him too. I hadn’t pictured us doing anything more than having the occasional fuck. But as time went by, I started feeling this _thing_ growing stronger and stronger, this weird feeling in my chest and stomach everytime Erwin looked at me with soft eyes or touched me, unintentionally or not. That son of a bitch had turned me in a love-struck fool. And I was so hopelessly screwed, I thought as I swiped the wet mop over the classroom’s dirty floor. So fucking done for.

 

I yearned for him like I’d only yearned for things that had harmed and destroyed me in the end, before now. It was like I’d grown addicted to Erwin. It felt like I’d developed a new dependence. I didn’t know if it was gratitude, guilt, or some other fuckery like that. Maybe. I wasn’t sure. I just hoped it wouldn’t fuck me up like everything else had in the past.

 

I wanted to see him so badly, or even just hear his voice on the phone. I would have been happy with a text too. I physically craved to fall asleep in his arms, or to hold him. Have him rest his head on my chest and as I stroked his back, lulling him to sleep.

 

Of course I also wanted to have sex with Erwin. But it felt a bit different now. Things had changed since those times when all I wanted was for him to fuck me mercilessly in his bed. The intimacy we had shared the night before had filled me with a kind of painful sweetness that I felt running through my veins even now. Every time I thought of his kisses, of his hands on my body, I just stopped everything I was doing and cracked the fucking dumbest grin (which I’m sure looked more like a grimace, given my inability to lift my facial muscles), and gazed into nothingness. When I finally caught myself after a few minutes, I grumbled and swore at myself under my breath, and hastily returned to work. I could still feel one corner of my mouth lifted up, though.

 

But of course my good mood couldn’t last all day. Having decided to open the windows before leaving the classroom (the air was so stuffy in that damn place), I approached the glass and leaned on my tiptoes to reach the handle (why the hell was it so high?), and that’s when I saw them. They were trying to hide behind a large oak tree in the school garden, thinking that they would be unnoticed, but from where I stood near the second story window I could clearly see them.

  
Eren, Marco, Jean, and Connie were sitting on the grass, passing a small lit joint back and forth between them. I stared at them intently for a few seconds, hoping I’d got it all wrong. But there was no such luck. I knew all too well what a joint looked like after all.

 

I kept looking at them silently, watching as they sniggered and chortled like the complete fools they were, spouting a whole bunch of bullshit that I’m not going to repeat. They weren’t making any sense anyway, but it was enough to make me wanna puke. They thought it was all so easy and fun, those little shitheads. I thought the same thing years ago.

 

I couldn’t keep on watching without feeling like I was getting progressively more and more angry and disgusted. If I had caught them fighting I would have just let them be (unless things looked serious enough to intervene). The same goes for if they’d been insulting each other or even spitting in each other’s faces. I wouldn’t have given two shits, really. They had to grow up sooner or later and, in my humble opinion, the sooner they learned how to take care and stand for themselves, the better. In the future they wouldn’t have a teacher to stick around and drag them away from troubles by their hair.

 

But seeing them like _that_ – it grossed me out. Literally. To the point of feeling anxiety slowly creeping up my body. I could see myself in those four idiots, and it was terrifying. It wasn’t really about being worried for their health. It was digging up old memories in my head, memories of how I used to spend breaks smoking pot with my friends in the school yard too.

There are people who smoke weed from time to time, and people who try it once or twice just to have some fun and laugh a bit. And then there are people who just can’t get enough, like me when I was younger. That half an hour of self-created happiness is not enough when your whole world was crumbling to fucking pieces all around you and nothing makes sense anymore. When you feel weak but you have no one to lean on, and you are a dickhead who’s too proud to ask for help. You need more. And then one day you go from the scoffing “the hell, it’s just a bit of weed, you think I’m gonna become a fucking junkie?” to actually do becoming everything you despised and looked down on. I could stay clean for weeks, actually, and lead some kind of average life. But then there were those times when I felt like I’d reached the end of the damn rope and I transformed like a werewolf on the night of a full moon. I was willing to do pretty much anything to shoot up, dirtying my hands in many ways to scrape some money together, like some kind of dirty street rat more than a werewolf.

 

I shuddered, remembering how much of a scumbag I had been, and tried to will away the memories of those dark days. I looked at the brats sitting in the yard again, focusing on their faces, wondering about their personal histories, their family environment. I had no idea whether they’d stop at having a joint once in a while or if any of them would lose control and fuck up their lives like I did. I had met so many people in the past, people you’d never peg for the kind who goes spiralling down. So the fact that Jean was the heir to a rich, powerful family (according to what I’d heard),well, it could mean anything and nothing at the same time.

 

You’re probably thinking I’m the shittiest hypocrite to ever grace the Earth, since I myself had indulged in smoking not so long ago when we were playing D&D at Erd’s. Well, you’re right I guess. The only difference is that _I_ know my limits, since I’ve gone well beyond them more than once.

 

Anyway, dwelling’s over. I’d seen enough. It was time to nip things in the bud.  
I grabbed the handle of the bucket full of dirty water, and leaned a bit out of the window. From the corner of my eye I saw Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt sitting on a bench not too far, quietly looking at me with the tiniest hint of curiosity in their eyes. “Well guys, enjoy the show,” I thought as I overturned the bucket and sent a foul cascade of grey water down on those four idiots’ heads. Eren got most of it though, and he screamed louder than all of his friends.

The now empty bucket rested on the windowsill and I just stood there, looking at them with a smug, triumphant grin and eyes full of disdain. 

 

“Why did you do that, sir?!” Little Eren burst out, furiously trying to get foam out of his eyes.

 

“It burns, it burns, it burns!!” Jean moaned, and grabbed the hem of Marco’s shirt and rubbed his face with it. Connie was grumbling too, but a lot quieter than the others since he was pretty much still dry.

 

“Which one do you prefer,” I asked Eren, crossing my arms and leaning on the windowsill. “Foam in your eyes, or a visit to Pixis’ office?”

 

“B-but we weren’t doing anything wrong!” Marco said with the weakest, most unconvincing smile I’d ever seen in my life, shaking like a leaf. He looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Who could blame him?

 

“Nothing wrong!” Connie echoed.

 

“Yeah? And what’s that you have in your hand, huh, Jaeger?”

 

Even if it was put out now, and completely soaked, it was still clearly a joint. If I had taken it to the dean’s office, any doubt would have been cleared up by a quick trip to the nearest lab, courtesy of Pixis.

 

All the blood drained from Eren’s face, and he looked down at the evidence of their misconductstill held in his fingers. The fear in his eyes made me feel powerful. It wasn’t all that cool of a feeling actually, especially since Eren was just a kid after all. I was a big heartless asshole, but I almost felt guilty. Still, he’d been a fucking douche. I’d have never dreamt of finding Eren, who looked so naive for his age, smoking pot. He’d let me down, in a way.

 

“I can explain!”

 

“It’s not ours!!” Jean shouted at the same time, trying to cover Eren’s voice. What a fucking coward. At least Jaeger had tried to take responsibility for what he’d done.

 

“Just let me talk, you damn moron!” Eren bellowed back, and at that point Marco had to grab Jean by the arm to restrain him from lunging at Eren.

 

Wasn’t marijuana supposed to make you calm and relaxed (at least, calmer and more relaxed than you usually are)? What the hell were those two like around each other in normal conditions?

 

“Fucking stupid bastard!! It’s your fault we’ve been found out, you retarded shithead!”

 

Wow Jean, so much for a healthy, classy background.

 

“It was YOUR idea to buy weed from-“but before Eren could finish his sentence, Connie jumped and covered Eren’s mouth with both of his hands.

 

A sudden movement on my left caught my attention and I whipped my head to the side. I had done so just in time to see Reiner standing up with thunderous eyes and a half-raised fist, and Bertholdt trying to make him sit on the bench again. Annie was, apparently, absent-mindedly looking at her nails. Could it be..?

 

I looked away and turned back to the four soaking wet brats standing under the window. I had the feeling this whole thing was a lot messier and more complicated than expected. Okay, it’s not like I hadn’t thought that none of them were smart enough to know how to grow weed on their own (especially Eren. No offense). But the reaction that those three had had, when they usually just quietly kept to themselves.. this story was really taking a turn for the worst.

 

Anyway, the ‘pusher trio’ (I was sure by now that they were the ones behind all of it, what with Reiner and his inability to control his reactions) had not noticed me witnessing their little intimidating act.

 

“Hey,” I called to my four little airheads. “I don’t give a fuck where you got it, or who you got it from. I don’t want drugs in my school.” They exchanged lost and frightened looks, swallowing audibly. I was making them all shit their pants.

 

“Now get up and get your sorry asses up here to help me clean. Hurry.”

 

I was offering them a silent agreement. They would give me a hand and I’d keep my mouth shut, at least this time. While I was waiting for them to join me, I put myself to work with great dedication. I went to the big blackboard on one side of the classroom and tossed the white and colored chalks on the floor, moved around casts which left dust and debris on the desks, all the while leaving dirty tracks with my sneakers on the still wet floor. No harm in making things slightly harder for them, right? I mean, they deserved it.

 

Anyway, even though I’d decided to not turn them in I still needed to do something about the situation, I thought as I sat cross-legged on one of the desks and watched them working their asses off to clean the mess that I’d made. No fucking way I’d go to the police. They’d never believe the words of a simple janitor. All the more if said janitor used to be a junkie until not too long ago. I knew all too well how things would turn out. I’d find myself involved in all of this shit alongside Eren, Jean, Connie, and Marco.

 

I lit a cigarette (even though it was forbidden to smoke inside the school. But it’s not like those idiots would rat on _me_ , given the situation), taking more than a little pleasure in watching Eren hurrying up with broom and dustpan to scoop up the ashes I’d thrown on the floor at my feet.

 

Informing the dean..? No, it was still premature. And anyway, I didn’t want those four to pay that heavily when really, their only fault was being dumb kids trying to act cool. Pixis was a jovial and accommodating man, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d want to know how I’d come to suspect such good, quiet students like Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie.

 

Well, I could always go to Erwin and ask for his help, I thought. He surely had more experience with this kind of thing. He’d know what to do, right? It wasn’t like I was dying to see him.

 

 

I fished my phone out of my jeans pocket and typed a quick message.

 

_[Oi, I need to talk to you. It’s important. Your place tonight?]_

“Sir, I’m done with the floor. Can I go now?”

 

“No,” I grumbled, a cigarette dangling from my lips and eyes still fixed on the phone’s screen. “You still have the shelves to dust off. And you need to reorder all the drawing materials in the blue cabinet. It’s a freaking mess in there. How you can even find what you need is a wonder.. and then your professors complain to _me_ , like it’s my fault that this place is total shit.”

 

Jean stomped away muttering something (probably insulting) under his breath, but I wasn’t too bothered by it. Just a couple of minutes after I’d texted Erwin, I got his reply. The phone vibrated in my hands and I jumped a little, hastily pressing buttons to open the message.

 

_[What about saturday night? My place]_

Woah. Way to be subtle, my little social worker. Whatever, it wasn’t my fucking business what he had to do until Saturday. I didn’t care. I just wanted to see him. I’d take care of things on my own until then.

 

_[Alright]_

His reply came just a few seconds later this time.

 

_[See you then :-)]_

I put away my phone with a huff, focusing back on my Four Horsemen.

 

Fuck you, Erwin. You, and the fact that I’d missed you and wanted to see you so bad, even after reading your ridiculous messages. Who even fucking uses smileys anymore?


End file.
